


Rocket in Wonderland Lost in the Multiverse

by Ziyongliu



Category: Alice in Wonderland (Movies - Burton), Guardians of the Galaxy (Comics), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-10-29 10:10:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 86,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10851810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziyongliu/pseuds/Ziyongliu
Summary: When Rocket gets lost in the Multiverse, he found himself in an alien planet scavenging for spare parts he could use to repair his ship. He is guided by a smiling cat who always seemed to have lewd remarks about Rocket's 'big gun' driving Rocket to his boiling point most of the time. However Rocket couldn't help but notice that it was just a facade that the Cheshire cat puts up to avoid answering the real mysteries about his past and the origin of 'Wonderland.'Being Rocket, he couldn't care less about the planet or the cat until the mysteries were slowly hinting that he and Cheshire might have a shared past. Using his acerbic attitude, he tries to outwit the cat into telling the story of his origin by driving the mad cat madder.





	1. The Dead Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings! Before you read chapter one, please head to the chapter index and just select the last chapter. That's the prologue. I didn't know how to put a prologue here and I thought it was weird having "Chapter 1: Prologue" so I kinda improvised on my own, putting Chapter 0 in an attempt to put it before Chapter 1 and it just ended up being the last chapter. So, yeah. Thank you.

<http://sanjiyu.deviantart.com/art/Rocket-in-Wonderland-Lost-in-the-Multiverse-Cover-693236600>

Rocket found himself in an unknown planet similar to Terra. His ship crash-landed in the middle of a forest where trees were ashen and dead, with branches of skeletal fingers clawing in the air. The sky was a canopy of grey clouds, flashing with lightning and hurdling with thunder. Rain wasn’t imminent, it was just the visage of the heaven—the nature of this planet.

 He unbuckled from the pilot’s seat, activating the navigation map that helped him no more than let the wormhole suck him in an unknown place. The crappy map flickered, displaying his coordinates for a second before sparking out of life.

“Unbelievable,” Rocket punched the navigation map. “I’d expect no less from a crappy ship rented for ten-thousand units,” he murmured to himself.

He looked outside the glass pane of his ship where there was an endless sight of dead trees, sunken in an ocean of mist. The outside of his window blurred from the condensation of water outside and he figured that staring stupidly won’t get him anywhere.

He went back to the pilot’s area and tried activating the navigation map once again but the thing was busted and completely useless. He tried punching around the area but it was to no avail and without any tools, he won’t be able to open anything up to fix or remodify it.

From his pocket, he took out a communication pad, hoping he could contact Quill and the others. He’ll have to bear with their puns—that the greatest weapons-maker got stranded, yadda, yadda. The communication pad was active yet the contacts seemed unreachable. It was impossible, Rocket thought. He designed his communication pad himself and he modified it so that it had the furthest reach than the finest tech the universe ever had.

Unless… he wasn’t in the universe. Muttering a curse, Rocket hoped that what he thought was wrong. Again and again, he desperately maneuvered through his communication pad, refreshing it, deactivating and reactivating it but his contacts were out of reach. He was somewhere, God knows where, in the multiverse.

Just perfect, he told himself and went to the crate of junk he got from Knowhere. Not far from the crate, he noticed that there was a drawn smiling face from the condensation outside the glass pane of his ship. He walked toward it and erased it with his hand but it was from the outside. He peeked from the eyes but met the same view as when he first glanced at the barren forest.

He let it slide over his head and opened up the crate of the junk he got from Knowhere. He knew from the first place that he won’t get anything from the crate that could fill up the spacecraft’s parts but he hoped that he could improvise.

One hour of sitting like a child by a trunk was all it took for Rocket to accept that he needed to find a town with fine tech unless he wanted to turn the ship into a bomb, he won’t get any use of the spare parts he retrieved from Knowhere. Getting sucked in a wormhole wasn’t part of his original plan which was rent a cheap ship, go to Knowhere then back with the others—in and out.

He took his big gun with him and smashed the classic red button that opened the exit of the ship. Steam escaped from the cracks of the metal door, falling elegantly to mix with the fog. Rocket jumped out of the exit, landing on damp soil. The mist ate up half of his body as the unforgiving cold penetrated his coat of fur.

He took a three-hundred sixty degree turn to scan the environment but everywhere looked the same except for the trail of excavated land and broken trees his ship created when he crash-landed. He felt ominous about the place and armed himself with his weapon, just in case some dangerous lifeform comes in contact.

Not knowing which direction to take, he chose the path of excavated land his ship created so as he would have a landmark—something that could lead him back should he ever get lost along the way.

Every step was a stride in a flood of mist. It was still and its movement was of the wind’s volition. There was no knowing what was below Rocket except for that he’s standing on damp dirt but anything else—whether there was grass or rocks—was completely invisible. He took cautious steps, pressing on the ground to ensure its stability before pressing the weight of his body to move.

The forest was dead quiet except for the ominous howl of the wind and the cacophony of thunder hurdling by seconds after lightning flashes in the sky. The silence made Rocket jumpy, alarming him of the slightest sound out of the cycle. The feeling of being watched lingered albeit it was a given since he was in a foreign planet with zero knowledge.

Eventually, the excavated path he followed had come to an end and he had to make his way from there, without guide and landmark. He looked behind him—to the last leaning tree his ship had destroyed until the mist ate it up and he was left without a remnant of what took him there.

Always walk one path if lost, Rocket established a rule although he wasn’t quite sure if that rule would apply to an alien planet. He followed it, nevertheless and hoped that he would come to the rim of the forest where he’ll figure things out from there.

For hours, he walked, taking stops to rest but never taking long. Everywhere he looked was the same picture whether he looked from different angles or above trees. It was driving him mad.

A strong wind pushed by and with it, echoed a delighted laugh.

Rocket aimed his gun behind him but he was still alone.

From the lake of mist, emerged monochromatic grey ghosts. It moved as if it had a mind of its own, disobeying the wind and it floated above Rocket’s head to an outstretched dead branch of a tree. One second it was vapor and in the next it was a smiling cat.


	2. The Smiling Cat

The cat was a blue tabby, eyes of luminous turquoise. He wore a similar attire with Rocket—a one piece suit, zipped at the front—but his was colored blue and grey and instead of having a gun holster at the back, he had another zipper attached to it. He relaxed on the branch of the tree like lying on a hammock, hands behind his head and his foot, on top of the other, swayed to an unheard beat. He had a wide grin on his face with wild malice in his eyes.

Rocket directed his gun at the cat, “Who the hell are you?”

The cat didn’t seem to have heard him since he hardly responded. Instead of even just looking at Rocket’s direction, his eyes remained fixed in the skies and he hummed a tune.

“Hey, smug-face,” Rocket called once again, “I’m talking to you.”

Again, the cat didn’t reply. He lifted himself up, like something hoisted him from the chest and stood on his feet on the branch. With a salute sign, he said, “Fire away, Cap’n!”

Rocket squinted, forming a ‘What’ motion of his mouth.

The cat vanished to a cloud of grey smoke and reappeared riding on Rocket’s back. “I said fire…” he whispered on Rocket’s ear and bit it.

Rocket jumped to face his back but the cat had once again vanished into smoke and reformed back on the same branch.

“I want to see how far your big gun can fire,” the cat said from his same spot.

Rocket turned to the location of the cat and aimed his gun, panting. “What the hell are you?”

The cat’s eyes glanced over Rocket and then he disappeared.

“I seem to be a floating head,” the cat reappeared mere inches away from Rocket’s muzzle—nothing but a rotating head.

Out of surprise, Rocket fired a stunning projectile but the cat vaporized before it ever made contact.

“What a fine weapon,” the cat remarked. Now he was standing on air, hands behind his back and admiring the distance the projectile covered.

Taking the chance while the feline was distracted, Rocket shot another stunning projectile but was eluded easily by the peculiar cat.

“Alright enough games,” Rocket yelled and cautiously watched every direction, “I’m not here to fight. I’m just lost and want to get out of here.”

There came no response. Rocket swallowed and kept his gun at aim. In the far distance—with the silhouette of dead trees was the figure of the cat staring into space.

Rocket aimed his gun, “I just need someone to guide me out of this forest,” he yelled and then added in a whisper, “But if you won’t, then I’ll have to force you.”

He fired a stunning shot and it finally hit the feline. The figure that sat on the tree branch fell and Rocket ran to collect his hunt. When he arrived, however, there was nothing there. He scoured the mist, thinking it was just concealed somewhere lying on the ground but there was certainly nothing there.

Two luminescent dots prowled behind him and when Rocket turned, it was already too late. The cat had already pounced from the ground and pushed him off balance. His gun fell out of hand’s reach and the blue cat sat on top of him, metallic claws pressing hard against his chest.

Rocket growled as the cat approached and just like some game, the cat chortled.

“I win,” he purred and got off Rocket, relaxing in the air.

Rocket sat up first, catching his breath, “What the hell was that for?” he sounded mildly annoyed from getting bested by someone else.

“We were playing, were we not?” the cat licked his metal claws, retracted in his paw of flesh. “It feels nice to prowl. I haven’t done that since… actually, I can’t remember.”

“Yeah. Whatever,” Rocket shook his head and got up. Picking up his gun, he placed it on his holster at the back of his suit. “Can you help me out of this forest?”

The cat seemed confused, like it was the most absurd thing ever heard. “Why would you want to leave this magnificent place?” he asked.

Rocket folded his arms, “I don’t know what magnificent means to you but this sure ain’t magnificent to me.”

“Well perhaps because you’re lost,” the cat said, “and lost, wherever that may be, is never a pleasant thing.”

Rocket walked a few steps ahead, peering out in the distance, “It never is a pleasant thing, kid, so will you help me out of this forest or not?”

The cat’s mouth opened, as if he was about to say something but closed it again as his ears perked up, detecting sounds. Rocket moved his ears as well, trying to detect whatever the cat caught but he didn’t receive any sounds.

The cat’s fur bristled and he floated behind Rocket, cowering.

“Is there something wrong?” Rocket asked.

“Shush,” the cat said, “Time to go… find shelter.” Then he evaporated leaving Rocket no explanation whatsoever.

A few moments after, Rocket finally picked something up—heavy marches coming from his west side. He crawled on all fours, behind a dead tree and hid for whatever was coming. And whatever was coming seemed to be an army.


	3. Squadron of Cards

The forest held no signs of life until the smiling cat and now there seemed to be something else wanting to introduce its existence. The earth beneath Rocket had a synchronized vibration—a tempo of one-two, one-two, not a moment late.

He was hiding behind the overgrown roots of a tree, allowing the mist to devour him completely so that whatever was approaching would miss him. He bit his tongue and held his breath. There was no place much more silent than the forest after all and the slightest sound would be heard.

He didn’t peek not while the march sounded so close. Aircrafts flew past above him to the direction where his ship had landed and he could only guess that whatever civilization stood on that planet knew about his intrusion.

The march proceeded ahead and as the sound got quieter, Rocket decided to peer on whatever walked past him.

There were four rows of rectangular silhouettes with limbs delving deeper into the woods until their figure could no longer be seen. He wasn’t detected, which he decided was a good thing since he didn’t really know if the inhabitants of the planet were friendly or not.

Patting dust off his suit, he got up and searched around for the smiling cat. He opened his mouth to call but realized that he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t get the cat’s name after all. “Smug-face,” Rocket yelled, “They’re gone now, you can come out.” There came no response and after a while, Rocket answered his own call. “Or just stay hidden, whatever.”

He followed the direction which the battalion used and from there, he estimated where they came from. With the mist covering the ground, he had no footsteps to follow so he climbed one of the trees for a better vantage point.

He stood at the tip of a frail branch with only one hand holding his body weight. He pointed his finger to where the aircrafts flew by and traced the direction where they might have originated. With just his open palm and outstretched thumb as his protractor, he estimated the direction and distance he’ll be walking.

“It’s no good following where the soldiers came from.”

Rocket got startled by the cat’s voice and the branch which he solely relied on, snapped. He clawed in the air, desperately trying to reach the thin, skeletal branches of the tree but none he could grasp. He fell but in a gentle sway like leaf gliding in the air. There was vapor underneath him which formed a cloud bed where he sat and from that vapor, materialized the cat from earlier, relaxing nonchalantly as they glided elegantly towards the ground.

“Falling is no good either,” the cat said.

“I wouldn’t have fallen if you didn’t surprise me up there,” Rocket returned, “And wipe that grin off your face. It’s disturbing.”

“So blunt,” the cat commented as they finally reached the ground.

Rocket got off quickly, landing on all fours before standing on two legs once again. “What were those guys back there?” he patted dirt off his hands.

“The red queen’s soldiers.”

“What’s the red queen?” Rocket asked again.

“The ruler of half the kingdom,” the cat floated in front of Rocket, “A tyrant,” he rotated and vaporized his body, leaving a floating head in Rocket’s wake, “She likes to take people’s heads.”

Rocket took a few steps back, “Did she try taking yours?”

“She could try,” the cat chortled, “But she couldn’t even capture me.”

“Is there a bounty on your head?”

The cat paused and his smile diminished but never left his face. He vanished then reappeared cradling on Rocket’s arms, “Are you going to turn me in?”

Rocket chuckled, “It depends on the bounty.”

“You could try,” the cat whispered and traced his claws on Rocket’s shoulder, “But I doubt you’ll succeed.”

Rocket dropped the cat but the cat remained on the air. “Don’t tempt me,” Rocket said, “I could already think of ways to capture you. How do you feel about vacuums?”

“Repulsive,” the cat remarked, “But do you have one with you?”

“I don’t have time for bounty hunting right now,” Rocket said, “I’d rather be on my way back to my friends but it’s no excuse that I won’t succeed in capturing you.”

The cat floated to a tree branch, relaxing once again. “You’ll be surprised at the bounty on my head,” he said, “In fact, it might be your only ticket out of here.”

Rocket laughed. “I have a ship that only needs a few parts replaced.” And the after he spoke, the aircrafts from earlier flew past once again, carrying his ship by their tails.

“You were saying?” the cat smirked.

Rocket’s mouth dropped open. There was junk inside that cheap ship—important junk he got from Knowhere.

“Maybe now you’d like to capture me?” the cat said, “To give you motivation, I’ll tell you what the bounty is. It’s anything you want—a new ship, materials to come along with it, even your old spacecraft.”

“Are you doing this on purpose?” Rocket yelled “Or are you trying to prove something?”

“What’s that I hear?” the cat taunted, “All bark and no bite?” he laughed.

“Why you frigging,” Rocket took out his gun and aimed it at the cat.

“Oh, what fun,” the cat stood up and posed.

Rocket pulled the trigger and watched his projectile home for the cat but before it made contact, the cat evaporated and materialized beside Rocket.

“Your gun shoots far,” the cat winked, “If you know what I mean…”

“You dirty little—“ Rocket murmured and fired again. And again, he missed.

“Hey how much does the projectile hurt?” the cat appeared by the mouth of Rocket’s gun, tapping his claw on the opening.

“Tell me about it,” Rocket fired and missed.

“I like big guns, but I never touched one myself,” the cat chortled.

“Could you stop sexualizing my weapon?” Rocket gritted his teeth.

The cat snorted and put a hand on his mouth, “Oh my… whatever are you talking about? I wasn’t implying anything. Say, could I hold your gun?”

“That’s it!” Rocket switched his weapon to a different mode. He stormed the environment with a rain of shells, leaving no place for the cat to materialize. He battle-cried, letting the annoyance out as he bombarded the place with bullets. He ran out of ammunition eventually and that’s when the annoying cat reappeared above head, letting out another lewd comment.

“What a messy shot,” he meowed and floated beside Rocket, “Are you done coming at me?”

Rocket slapped his face before dropping the gun and tried brawling with the cat fist to fist. He clawed at the feline, punching and grabbing but like waving away smoke, the cat merely wafted and materialized.

“Perhaps you’re done now?”

Rocket panted and although it was hard to admit, he gave up… for now. “I guess I am,” he gasped for air.

“Phew,” the cat wiped his forehead, “I admit, you have a lot of stamina.”

“Stop,” Rocket demanded.

“I almost couldn’t keep up,”

“Will you shut it?” Rocket yelled, “I’m not in the mood for your lecherous Easter eggs so fuck off!”

The cat went quiet for a second but only for a second. He floated in front of Rocket and added another comment, “I like your boiling point.”

Rocket glared at the cat, having doubts if he should respond to that or not.

“This time, that doesn’t have a double meaning,” the cat said. “And since you’re cool, I’ll help you find a way out.”

Rocket felt relieved. It was the truly the only thing he needed to hear right now.


	4. The Mad T Party

They were sitting by a fire in the mid of the dead forest. According to the cat, if Rocket wanted to get out safely, they must move when all else is ‘recharging’. And that was when darkness takes over the land.

So here they were, two figures by a campfire sharing warmth as they waited for night to arrive. After their brawl earlier, none of them spoke a word to each other. Rocket was still fed up from his defeat and the cat simply had nothing to respond to.

Rocket was between the roots of an overgrown tree, throwing tinder just as the flames were about to go out. Across him was the peculiar cat sitting on air, compelled by the fire. His purr kept the silence broken and Rocket couldn’t help but let out rude comments about it.

“Hey smug-face,” Rocket called, “Do you have a name?”

“Do you?”

“Of course I do,”

“Then I’m no different.”

Rocket sighed, “I’m asking for your name, you idiot.”

The cat snorted, “Then ask properly. I don’t go by implications. It’s Cheshire if you must know… at least, that’s who I’m supposed to be.”

Rocket was confused for a moment, “Who you’re supposed to be? What the hell does that mean?”

“This world is much more peculiar than I am,” Cheshire said and waved the topic off with a question. “And your name?”

Rocket thought for a while before he realized that he was getting lost in space, “It’s Rocket.” The feline chortled, almost sounding like a snort and Rocket wasn’t just about to let the pass. “Does my name sound funny to you?”

“Oh no,” Cheshire giggled, looking at Rocket playfully. “I just had a thought…”

“You’re disgusting,” Rocket said and poked the flames with a stick, “Do you listen to yourself?”

“Not often. It’s not every day I meet such a fine specimen with an interesting attitude I could talk to.”

“You find my attitude interesting? That’s hilarious,” Rocket faked a laugh and threw the stick he used to poke in the burning bunch. “Well that’s enough formalities. I don’t want to get too involved. Let’s just focus on getting my ship back so I could be on my way.”

“Agreed,” Cheshire replied, “When I return, we’ll move out. Collect your strength for now.”

Rocket opened his mouth to ask where Cheshire was going but he evaporated before Rocket could say anything. He was alone just as he wanted but he couldn’t deny the discomfort solitude offered him.

***

The dead forest wasn’t just an ocean of ashen trees and a flood of mist. In the right direction, there was actually a path that branched out to different places. And there were signs that told which path goes where.

At the very far left, there was a sign that read, “Marmoreal,” the palace of the white queen. In the middle, was a sign scribbled with “Jabberwocky,” in a hasty font. There was another sign that read, “Tweedles,” and just beside it was the sign that read, “The March Hare and the Mad Hatter.”

Although Cheshire had lived in the dead forest for years, he had to rely on the signs if he wanted to go somewhere since the place is always shifting. The forest was built to be a maze—always changing.

He took the route to the March Hare and the Mad Hatter, paying a little visit to old friends.

There was a melody of whistling kettles in various pitches just as the aroma of different teas was brewing all together. The sound of creaking clockwork could be heard a mile away and Cheshire could only guess that his friend, the Hatter, might have forgotten to oil his joints again.

The tea party was festive all hours of the day—a never ending celebration of unbirthdays but of course that was just a façade to cover up the mad reality they were all living in. They were assigned roles where in which characters cannot be broken. Resistance to such was met with cruel retribution.

Cheshire was the only one to ever disobey Alice’s law and he was wanted all throughout the kingdom. He was lucky that he had the ability to disappear otherwise his head would have long been floating in the red queen’s pool. Not everything, however, was in his favor. His power was very unstable and it endangers his life as well as those around him which is why he periodically visits the Mad Hatter for some repairs.

He materialized before the cream gate of the Mad Hatter’s tea party, withered over the years. A vine of thorns and ivy braided all over the wooden fence, devoured by moss. From there, he landed on the ground and made his way by foot to the forced celebration of unbirthdays.

There was a cloud of steam collecting just above head that emanated from the boiling pots and kettles. The long oaken table, where which everything was placed, was concealed by a greyish cloth, overlapping on the dirty ground. The chairs were frail with paint that chipped off and had parts taken from planks and sticks.

The mad trio sang “Twinkle, twinkle, little bat,” their voices—hoarse and forced. Cheshire approached in small steps, pity overriding him. Just near enough, the smallest figure was the first to notice him.

“Chess!” a dormouse greeted Cheshire’s arrival. He scurried on his metallic limbs and stopped before the blue feline, scanning him with his cybernetic eye to make sure that it was really his friend. When everything seemed in favor, he jumped from the table and on to Cheshire’s shoulder.

“How’s it going, Mallymkun?” Cheshire greeted in return.

“Gradually being driven mad,” the dormouse chuckled. “Unstable again, are we?” Mallymkun went to Cheshire’s back and zipped his suit halfway down. He examined the radiators bulging out of Cheshire’s back which was responsible for his ability to float and evaporate. Thereafter gave no comments—at least no life threatening comments.

“T’lil cat’s back, heh-heh-heh,” the March hare threw a spoon at Cheshire which Cheshire evaded with ease. He trembled as if he had an overdose of energy albeit that was just the manifestation of madness working its way little by little. “One o’these days,” the hare said and stared in space, “The celebrations would stop.”

And the last to greet Cheshire was the Mad Hatter. At the edge of the long table seated the cyborg whose tech seemed like that of clockwork. His limbs were metallic, always creaking with clogs exposed turning each other in the recesses of a second. “It’s been long, Chess,” he said without looking to his direction., hiding away his eyes that were but scanners. “Too long…” he added, “I thought that you were gone completely.”

Cheshire sighed and took a seat across the mad hatter on the long table. “Well that was the original plan. Go far away and then evaporate completely. It’s tiring living this fiction, you all know that.”

“Aye…” the Hatter said in a low tone like he hid something. He wasn’t his usual self after all. The Mad Hatter’s spirit was unbroken but now, he was shattered. “What changed your mind?” he added in a moment.

Cheshire heaved in a deep breath and traced his claw on the table. It wasn’t apparent since he was made to smile forever but inside, he was frowning. “A fellow from Halfworld…” Cheshire mumbled.

“Halfworld?” Mallymkun was shocked. They were detached from reality for as long as they were trapped and they were forbidden to speak of the world above which is why a sample from reality was a sweet treat. It eased them from their madness knowing that they still exist. “Did Alice take another…” Mallymkun trailed off.

“No,” Cheshire interjected, “Heavens, no. He got lost and is seeking my help to return.”

“Why’re you ‘ere then y’lil tyke?” the March Hare threw another silverware at Cheshire. “Helpin’ a bosom when y’can’t ‘elp ye’self…heh-heh-heh…”

Cheshire ignored the March Hare. “It’s been long since you stabilized me, Hatter,” Cheshire said, “and I fear that I might go off while I’m with Rocket.”

“Rocket?” the Hatter coughed the name.

“It’s… what the lost one calls his self,” Cheshire explained and went to his purpose of visiting, “I just hope you could fix me to stay solid just until I could help him out of here.”

The Mad Hatter had his eyes on the table the whole time they spoke but after everything, he finally looked at Cheshire, “You would undergo your greatest fear—your trauma for that fellow you just met?”

“Aye…” Cheshire swallowed. He paused for a minute, fighting the hesitation in his idea. “I will be doing it for all of you. Hatter, I…” there was a lump in his throat that made it difficult to speak but he kept on swallowing until it went away, “I want you to turn me into a bomb.”

Mallymkun was the first to react, protesting Cheshire’s idea. “Chess, what are you thinking? You can’t suddenly just appear after a long time and then ask for something so absurd!”

“That’s all I’ve done most of my life, I’m afraid,” Cheshire remarked. He was already smiling but he smiled even further for his little friend. “Mally,” Cheshire rubbed the cheek of the dormouse with the tip of his claw, “It’s the only way all of you could be free from Alice… for this tea party to finally end… for the red queen to be free from executing everyone… for every one of us imprisoned here to follow our own will.”

“It’s a ridiculous idea,” Hatter said monotonously.

“You and I both know that’s not true, Hatter,” Cheshire said, “Besides, I’m planning on going out anyway so why not just let me go fulfilling a purpose? Alice depraved us of any tech that could rival hers. Even if we all turn against her, she’ll wipe us all out. With me, however, it’s a different story.”

“You mean…” Mallymkun pointed to the bulging metals in Cheshire’s back.

“Yes, yes. Increase the radius of influence and everything in my diameter would be vaporized. Even the most indestructible metal.”

“The tea party…” the March Hare was quivering, “will end?” he pulled his ears down.

“Aye, it will.”

“But Chess…” Mally was tripping on his own voice.

“Wouldn’t you like to get back up there?” Cheshire took Mallymkun on top of his hand, “Riding in a ship, exploring different planets, becoming a bounty hunter?”

The dormouse sniffled.

The Mad Hatter cleared an area on the long table and took out his toolbox. “All these years I thought you were selfish,” his voice remained stoic, “Always saving your own skin, disappearing in danger’s wake… but now… you’re going to free us all.”

Cheshire gently placed Mallymkun back on the table. He slipped his shoulders off his suit and lied on the cleared area.

“I’ve always do hated blades…” he remarked, “Whenever I see it, I am reminded of the parts broken and put back together… the pain those from Halfworld all share.”

“Chess…” the Hatter said, “I truly am sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Cheshire closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Miles away from the tea party, back to the path where the signs were displayed was a cacophony of agonizing cries.


	5. Through the Gorge

It was a few hours after night befell that Cheshire had gone back to Rocket.

The campfire was but ashes swallowed in the dark with few dying embers fighting to stay lit. The sky cleared of its concealing clouds revealing the grin of a moon pasted above. It highlighted the mist, turning it silver but no less ominous.

The raccoon had curled himself to a ball between the roots of a dead tree while hugging his bazooka. He didn’t look too happy with his brows furrowed to the center of his face and every once in a while, he muttered vague curses. He was sleeping or at least that was what he was trying to do but was failing miserably.

He opened his eyes when he attempted to change positions and caught the floating cat staring at him emptily.

“S-smug-face?” Rocket rubbed his eyes and squinted to Cheshire, “So you’re finally back after telling me we’d move out at night.”

Cheshire was deep inside his thoughts, analyzing the features in Rocket he undeniably found cute when he realized that he was spacing out too long. Shaking himself awake, he fanned his hands open to the environment. “Look around,” he said, “The night is still young and I told you, we’d move out when I return.”

“Whatever.” Rocket waved him off and stretched his limbs before strapping his bazooka on his back. “I assumed you would be back when the moon came out. You could have at least told me you’d be later.”

“I made myself clear,” Cheshire folded his hands, “We’d move out when I return.”

“How about drop some details next time,” Rocket copied Cheshire’s gesture to mock him, “Not just vanish and leave me with some questions. That—was totally not making yourself clear.”

Cheshire paused before he could say a word. He was still in pain from the Mad Hatter’s modifications earlier and he tried his best not to show it. He heaved in a deep breath and swallowed the pain away. “Let’s… head out,” Cheshire flexed his back and floated ahead.

Rocket walked behind the hovering cat when he noticed that there were blood-splashes dried on Cheshire’s clothing. Wherever that cat went to earlier, Rocket thought, probably didn’t end up very smoothly.

Their journey was walked in silence… by Rocket at least. Unlike Cheshire, Rocket had to jump over arching branches and sometimes trip his foot on ones hidden under the fog. While the cat simply floated over every obstacle.

It wasn’t fair that the feline got to fly while he got to count the number of times he fell and not to mention the strain on his legs was starting to manifest.

“How much longer do I have to walk?” Rocket asked. Everywhere he seemed to look at was the same painting—an endless sight of silhouettes ahead. It was though as they walked a loop without even knowing it.

“Patience,” Cheshire purred. He kept his eyes fixed on the way and maintained his pace in the air.

“Easy for you to say,” Rocket jumped over a root, “You’re just flying.”

“I have the ability so I’m using it,” Cheshire replied monotonously, “If you could, you would as well.”

“No shit,” Rocket agreed, “If only I had my jetpack.”

“Very well then,” Cheshire patted his hands as if they were ridden with dirt.

He landed just in front of Rocket and bent down, palms open behind him.

“What are you doing?” Rocket asked not because he didn’t know (It was an obvious gesture) but because he felt uncomfortable.

“I’m easing your complaint of having strained legs,” Cheshire looked over his shoulder. Rocket opened his mouth to speak but Cheshire interjected before he could say anything. “Seize the opportunity, you won’t have it again.”

Thereafter, Rocket shut up and walked towards Cheshire. He stepped one foot forward and bent down, placing his hands on Cheshire’s shoulders. Cheshire locked his hands behind Rocket’s legs and waited for the raccoon to relax on his back.

Rocket took it slow, breathing nervously as if he was about to pilot alien technology for the first time but after a while, he finally leaned against the feline’s back. Cheshire shuddered the moment Rocket leaned in but he bit his tongue and swallowed the pain.

“Don’t be overdramatic,” Rocket spat, “I’m not that heavy.”

Cheshire looked over to Rocket. “Forgive me,” he chuckled, “I was just surprised having _it_ touch my back.”

Rocket smacked him on the head once, “Don’t start with me.” And then he was surprised that he was able to land a blow on Cheshire for the first time. “Hey, I actually hit you.”

“So you did,” Cheshire stood up and then jumped to the air.

“You better hold your tongue starting now,” Rocket warned in a chortle, “Or there’ll be plenty of where that came from.”

“I’ll try my best,” Cheshire wriggled his lower back, “But I’m kind of enjoying feeling _it_.” And another smack landed on his head. Cheshire kept on, “I just felt it move against me. You like it.”

“For your information, I do not,” Rocket hit the cat for the third time. “Keep on. I actually enjoy hitting you.”

“It’s just the frustration of not getting to hit me earlier getting satisfied,” Cheshire said.

***

The mist never looked so oceanic before, Rocket thought. Since he rode Cheshire, getting an above head perspective of the ground he walked made him realize how thick the fog was. And it literally looked like it had an unreachable depth—like he could drown from it, never reaching the surface again. And then there were the trees which looked trimmed, dwarfed.

It’s not just the perspective Rocket was bedazzled by. It was also their pace—their movement. They had certain grace midair—elegance like vapor dancing with the wind and it felt soothing. Rocket’s never felt this serene before and it was made possible thanks to the peculiar feline he rode.

They glided on the way until Rocket could make out something else in the distance. They stopped by the rim of the forest as Rocket stared into a vast gorge. The edge of the forest was a cliff where the mist dropped like an elegant waterfalls to hundreds of feet in darkness. Down in the ravine, at the very middle was the figure of a castle.

“That is where your ship was taken,” Cheshire said, “The most dangerous place in Wonderland… except at night.” Rocket was so dumbfounded he hasn’t noticed Cheshire land on the ground. “Do you mind?” Cheshire asked.

Rocket snapped out, “H-how’re we gonna get there?”

“Same as how we got here,” Cheshire evaporated, dropping Rocket on the ground.

“Hey, what gives?” Rocket stood up and patted dirt off his suit. “I thought you were going to carry me down the cliff.”

“I am,” Cheshire walked in front of Rocket. This time, instead of bending down, Cheshire wrapped his hands around Rocket’s waist, pulling their lower bodies to touch against each other.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rocket squirmed but only managed to distance his head away from the feline.

“If you don’t want to fall, you better hold on to me,” Cheshire stretched his smile further. Without waiting for Rocket to hold on to him, he jumped in the air and dove towards the cliff head first, pulling Rocket with him.

Rocket yelled as they were falling normal speed towards hundreds of feet in darkness and out of impulse, he embraced Cheshire a little too tightly than expected. The moment his hands locked around Cheshire’s body, they glided down like leaf falling with the wind.

Rocket opened his eyes and realized their descent was a gentle flow. Luminescent turquoise dots paired with that perpetual smile met his face. “I established just now that I want to kill you,” Rocket whispered.

“Do that and you fall,” Cheshire laughed. He angled them horizontally so that Rocket was sitting on top of him, reducing the chances he’d fall out of a poor grip. His hands, which were around Rocket’s waist relaxed behind his head as he glided on the air like lying on a hammock.

When they reached the ground, Rocket was eager to get off, squirming his way out of the Cheshire cat.

“Do you not wish to ride the rest of the way?” Cheshire asked.

Rocket pretended to have fixed the straps of his suit and patted away imaginary dirt just to look away at his companion. “I’m all rested,” he muttered, “I’ll walk.”

“Just tell me if you feel tir—”

“I said I’m fine,” Rocket interjected, “Are you deaf or plain stupid? Don’t underestimate me. I’m not weak.”

Cheshire clicked his tongue and sighed, “Says the one who complained previously.”

“I covered quite a distance, okay?” Rocket snarled, “Now lead the way. I’ve stayed here long enough.”

They started out at the bottom of the highland and slowly made their way through the glen. There were an abundant number of boulders atop plateaus that seemed unstable, that seemed like the slightest push of the wind could send it falling. Then there were stone arches connecting from one end of a high wall to another. Rocket remained cautious the first steps along the way since he didn’t trust the boulders that could anytime fall.

The floating feline landed on the ground, making Rocket halt to ask if there was any danger.

The cat simply used his legs and began walking as well. “Just to empathize and ease that incessant rambling going on in your head.”

“I wasn’t rambling!” Rocket denied. He tapped his finger on his bazooka and after a while asked, “Could you read minds too?”

“I could read actions,” Cheshire replied monotonously.

Rocket spat, bested again.

There was something odd about Cheshire, Rocket began to notice when the feline had made contact on the ground. There was too much effort on the steps he takes like there was difficulty in walking. And every once in a while, Rocket would notice him shudder and limp a few steps before getting ahold of his balance once again.

“All the years of floating seemed to have made you forget how to use your legs, huh?” Rocket remarked and kicked a pebble along the way. The pebble landed on an area where Cheshire was supposed to step and when the feline landed his foot on the bulky structure, he stumbled immediately.

Rocket snorted and then broke out into laughter. “What… the hell was… that?” Rocket said between his breaths. “You know, I prefer flying over walking too but it never dulled my senses in walking.”

Cheshire panted and pushed himself up but using his back made him falter and once again meet the ground.

“Just go back to the air,” Rocket wiped a tear from laughing and then walked over to Cheshire. Offering a hand, he said, “Let me help you.”

Although reluctant, Cheshire reached for Rocket’s hand but it distanced as his hand neared.

“Come on, let me help you,” Rocket was grinning widely.

Cheshire reached, Rocket distanced until eventually the cat had enough of Rocket’s plays.

He evaporated and then materialized standing in front of Rocket. He pushed his tongue out and squinted his eyes as to mock Rocket and limped ahead to lead the way.

“You’re really not going to fly?” Rocket yelled to the distancing cat and there came no response. He caught up with Cheshire and intercepted him on the front.

The cat looked at him curiously and knew he was up to no good having seen the smile from earlier lingering on his face.

“What you’re doing, it’s empathizing, you said that,” Rocket began, “If you really wanna empathize,” he reached for his bazooka and offered it to Cheshire, “Carry this. You said you’d never held big guns before, right? Here’s your chance.”

If Cheshire could frown, the corner of his mouths would be dropping as low as they could reach. He examined Rocket’s bazooka with his eyes before running his hands against the fine metal. One hand, he placed under the gun’s diaphragm and the other on the trigger.

Rocket adjusted so the base of his weapon would be pushing against Cheshire’s shoulder. “That’s the proper way to hold it,” Rocket said, “In the count of three, I will be letting go…” he chortled. “One…” Rocket began to laugh, “Two…” he placed a hand on his mouth, “Three.”

When Rocket let go, Cheshire felt the weight of the gun pull him down. He could have been able to carry it if he didn’t rely on the smallest muscle on his back which still ached from the Hatter’s surgical operation. His fur bristled and his back cramped. One second he held the gun, the other he was belly-flopped on it.

He felt his back throb in indescribable pain but all was hidden by the visage of his perpetual smile. A tear had escaped Cheshire’s eye as a nervous response from the wounds on his back and some muscles that landed against the edges of the bazooka. He pushed the weapon out from under him so that he would be lying flat on the ground.

Rocket laughed louder than before, louder than ever as he found it funny.

Cheshire miscalculated. He underestimated the weight of the weapon since he saw Rocket carry it with one hand.

“Now you held a _big gun_ ,” Rocket bent down, “How does it feel?”

Cheshire managed to let out a chuckle, just to refine the visage he eternally held. “I guess it’s too much I could handle.”

“You always have a better response,” Rocket snorted, “Even when you’re lying on the ground you’re still smiling.”

“What can I say?” Cheshire tried getting up, “Big guns hurt at first,” he fell down. Once again he evaporated and reformed standing. “Shall we get a move on?”

It wasn’t that funny anymore, Rocket thought. Well it was but not that much. He realized that the way the cat moved wasn’t just because he forgot how to walk. There’s something Cheshire wasn’t telling him.

“Smug-face,” Rocket caught up. Up close, he noticed that Cheshire trembled every time he took in a breath and trembled when he let it out. “I don’t really care if you float. Either way, I won’t run out of things to say in my head.”

When Cheshire realized that what Rocket said was of no relevance, he simply walked ahead.

Rocket intercepted him, putting a hand on the cat’s shoulder. They look at each other before Rocket dropped his bazooka and copied an earlier gesture of the feline back in the forest. He bent down, offering his back for a ride.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Rocket said and smiled, “I simply want to empathize,” he chuckled and imitated Cheshire’s voice with the posh accent, “To ease the incessant rambling going on in your head.”

Cheshire was hesitant but he took the offer eventually. He bent down and pressed his body against Rocket’s back as he crossed his arms on Rocket’s chest, resting his head on Rocket’s shoulder.

“You weigh like you’re nothing at all,” Rocket commented. He carried his bazooka with one hand and with the other he kept behind Cheshire’s leg. “Lead the way.”


	6. The Cat from Halfworld

Cheshire rode on Rocket’s back, arms dangling in front of the raccoon. He rested his chin on Rocket’s shoulder so as he had a view of what’s ahead of them and he told the raccoon where to go in gentle whispers.

“Left,” Cheshire said when the path split into two separating directions. “Past the boulder,” he instructed again when they came across a landmark. Again and again. Rocket followed obediently, letting the cat guide him through the canyon. Although they’ve walked for hours, the figure of the castle was nowhere in sight. It was probably past midnight—later when Rocket began to feel impatient.

“Are you sure we’re going in the right direction?” Rocket looked over the cat. He felt Cheshire’s breath blow against the fur on his neck and his breathing seemed irregular. “Hey smug-face, did you hear me?” Rocket jutted him up.

Cheshire was awoken from his light nap and responded to Rocket immediately, “Yes, yes, you’ll be out here by morning.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Rocket rolled his eyes, “But thanks for the estimation. Good to know that when daybreak arrives, I’ll be back out there.”

“Aye…” Cheshire replied, “and I too would be free.”

“That’s great then,” Rocket remarked, “You know with your ability, you’d make a fine thief. That is, if you’re a bit on the bad side. Where do you plan to reside?”

“Somewhere…”

“You’d have to be more specific than that,” Rocket snorted, “Actually I couldn’t care less where you go but you know, just in case I ever need a favor from you. At least tell me where in the galaxy I would most likely find you.”

“If I know where I would go, I’d tell you.”

Rocket didn’t understand. The sentence was too vague for him. “That’s the lousiest thing I’ve ever heard. You can’t simply just travel the galaxy without knowing where you’re headed. That’s called getting lost and dying later on.”

“If given a chance, I would like to visit Terra for the last time before I go.”

“Go where?” Rocket was really confused but the feline didn’t seem to have the intention of enlightening him.

“Could you drop me for a second?” Cheshire didn’t even wait for Rocket to bend down before he jumped off the raccoon’s back. It was as if his request was simply for courtesy. He went to the side of the path and leaned against a giant stone, panting. “Could you wait for me here?” each word seemed to be difficulty for the cat to say. He panted much more than just seconds ago and his eyes were narrowing to slits.

“Why, where are you going?” Rocket asked, “Can’t I come with you?”

Weakly, Cheshire nodded to disagree. “It’ll be fast. I promise you when the first ray of the sun lights the sky, you’ll be riding home inside your ship.”

“No forget about that. Where are you going?” Rocket was surprised himself at what he was saying. He didn’t care about the cat. He wasn’t supposed to yet here he is, all curious as to where the cat was going.

“It doesn’t matter,” Cheshire gasped and bent his knees, ready to jump. Before he could push off the ground, he felt a hand lock tight against his forearm.

“You are not leaving me here wondering where the hell you might be,” Rocket pulled Cheshire closer to him. The cat was easily pulled off balance but Rocket caught him inside his arms. Cheshire was trembling. Rocket felt it when the cat landed in his arms.

“I’m serious, Rocket,” Cheshire squirmed out of Rocket’s grip, “You knowing where I am won’t contribute to your escape much less affect it.”

“Here’s a rule about me,” Rocket began, “If you’re hiding something, I don’t care. If you’re hiding it from me, however, I’ll get it out. Now tell me,” Rocket pulled Cheshire’s face close to him, “Where are you going that’s so confidential, I mustn’t know about it?”

Cheshire evaded eye contact with the raccoon albeit it was difficult given they were so close. As the seconds went by, he ran out of options. He escaped Rocket by evaporating and materializing a few feet away from him. He jumped in the air and floated away, determined to reach the top of the cliff.

“Don’t make me shoot you,” Rocket warned, “Get down here.”

Cheshire paid him no mind and kept on ascending.

Rocket aimed his bazooka but before he could even shoot a projectile, the cat was descending rapidly into the chasm.

“Cheshire!” Rocket yelled. He dropped his bazooka and went down on all fours, running as fast as he could to try and catch the falling cat. He was running straight towards the chasm but his eyes were too focused on timing the right jump to catch Cheshire. By the last steps of the earth, Rocket didn’t think about whether he’d survive the fall. He jumped towards Cheshire and embraced the unconscious cat. He positioned Cheshire so as the cat would be above him and he fell first, breaking the water.

They descend deep into the water before floating back up and getting carried by the mild current. Rocket simply swam to the riverside and pulled Cheshire by the collar of his suit.

He gasped for air, looking at the crazy feline he just rescued. Where could he be going that he didn’t want Rocket to know?

***

Rocket created a fire some distance away from the river. He gathered twigs and pulled out desert shrubs to provide tinder for the flames. He rolled a giant rock near the fire and took off his suit to dry and avoid hypothermia.

He placed the unconscious cat near the flames so as he would have an equal share of warmth but the heat wasn’t able to reach past his wet clothing. Rocket went over to Cheshire and unzipped his wet jumpsuit when he noticed the water dropping from over-absorption looked crimson in color.

Rocket hurriedly took off Cheshire’s suit and traced the source of the blood from an opened stitch on his back. What surprised him more was the familiarity of what seemed to be technology he’s seen before. He had a cybernetics skeleton but much more complex than Rocket’s ever seen. He couldn’t mistake the technology as from Halfworld. At that point, Rocket began to question the origin of his companion.

There were three radiators bulging out of Cheshire’s flesh—two in place of each scapula and one just above the tail. Thin plastic tubes ran in and out of the radiators, transporting fluids and blood. In place of the spine was the opened wound. Rocket simply pulled the plastic thread and ran it through where it was sewn. He knotted it securely so as it wouldn’t open again and proceeded to examine the unconscious cat.

He couldn’t get over what he saw. He promised himself he wouldn’t get too involved with the planet but now he wanted to throw himself to the cat asking information. When he saw the cat’s structure, one thing came into his mind—Halfworld.

He knew the pattern the creators made in modifying them. He knew just how their skeletons were torn, repositioned, subtracted and replaced with metallic parts so as a quadrupedal being could become bipedal. How could he have not noticed that the cat had prosthetic hands!

 “But no one in Halfworld could float and evaporate,” Rocket brushed the back of his hand against Cheshire’s cheek. “Or look this creepy with a smile.” He started having doubts again. Rocket examined the cat, looking at his metallic clavicle—since felines didn’t have any—down to the most familiar detail. He was experimented twice, Rocket thought. The bulging radiators weren’t Halfworld technology anymore. And the smile… it wasn’t natural, no.

He took the opportunity in understanding what the cat really was but nothing he could really confirm unless Cheshire answers his questions later on. He cupped the cat’s face and pressed his fingers on the muscles around the mouth, on the cheek and he found what he was looking for somewhere near the jaw.

There was something implanted inside responsible for the smile. He opened Cheshire’s mouth and using his claw, he followed the shape of that smile. The answer lied inside. There were hinges he could only guess was connected somewhere near the jaw that stretched the muscle so as he would appear smiling.

Whoever did this was a monster.

***

Cheshire’s promise was broken when he woke up in the morning, bare and weak. He came back to consciousness with a hypnic jerk, as if his soul departed from the body and was pulled back in. He sat up first and realized that he was naked and his clothes seem to be out of sight. He rubbed the sleep off his eyes and saw the raccoon by the river, staring wistfully into the current.

He floated to get up and vaporized his body, leaving but a floating head to approach the focused raccoon.

“Top of the morning, good sir,” Cheshire greeted, “It seems as though as my garment is out of possession.”

“You said when the first ray of the sun lights the sky, I’d be riding my ship back home,” Rocket said dryly, not taking his eyes off the river.

“Forgive me… I—”

“Never mind that though,” Rocket turned his head to Cheshire. “Who are you?”

The question was enough to make Cheshire frown if he could. He evaded answering that question but he could only avoid it for so long. After a while, he answered, “I am supposed to be–”

“I don’t give a damn who you’re supposed to be,” Rocket interjected. Rage was in his eyes and Cheshire didn’t understand where all the anger was coming from. “Just tell me who you are.”

“Have you answered that question yourself?” Cheshire returned. He was mellow as he was sorrowful even if his smile was so deceiving. “Who are you,” Cheshire quoted, “You call yourself Rocket as I call myself Cheshire but who are we?”

Rocket swallowed. Something inside him was hurting.

Cheshire materialized his body, showing Rocket how much he was perverted with metals and wires; how he was took apart and reformed to stand on two legs, to have hands that could be able to hold and yet maintain retractable claws hiding inside him.

“I’ve seen it all,” Rocket tore his eyes away from Cheshire. “But why hide something like this from me? You and I are the same.”

Cheshire placed a hand on his elbow. “I didn’t want to remind you of a past you want to forget… we want to forget.”

“That’s not how it is, you idiot,” Rocket gritted his teeth, “It sucks being alone… knowing there’s someone like me…” Rocket breathed, “Fills a gap…”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Cheshire just now realized that that was what he felt when he first saw Rocket. A void inside him was filled.

Rocket walked over to Cheshire so close they almost touched. He brushed his hand against the feline’s cheek until he was reaching in for his touch. It was when he began to purr that he snapped out from the pleasurable trance and distanced away from Rocket.

Wide-eyed and awed, Cheshire pulled his tail in front of him to cover whatever part his thin tail could conceal. Rocket stared with a neutral gaze until Cheshire vaporized his body, leaving a floating head in his wake.

“I’d like my clothes back please,” Cheshire said.

“There’s nothing you could hide that I haven’t seen already,” Rocket chuckled.

“I thought I was the pervert,” Cheshire meowed, “It’s not fair you get to see my entirety whilst I haven’t seen yours. I demand you disrobe immediately.”

“You could have seen me too if you weren’t asleep last night,” Rocket folded his arms, “Or if you woke up before me.”

“Just hand me my clothes, please.”

“It’s over by that rock, across where you slept. I dried it by the fire,” Rocket pointed.

The floating head went back to where he first woke up and traced his suit across it. He materialized and hid out of view from the raccoon before spreading open his folded garment. One foot, he slipped inside and as he was about to slip the other, someone tapped him on the back.

Startled, he almost tripped on his own suit when he turned to see Rocket just behind him.

“I still haven’t asked you about those,” Rocket said. He was referring to the radiators on Cheshire’s back running with plastic tubes carrying fluids.

“Allow me to clothe myself first,” Cheshire hissed, “God that is so rude.”

Rocket folded his hands in front of him and kept watch. “Go on. Put your clothes on.”

“Do you mind if you turn around?”

“Yes,” Rocket answered shortly, “I told you before, there’s nothing you could hide that I haven’t seen already.” Cheshire didn’t move. They were in for a staring contest. Eventually, Rocket turned, letting out a deep sigh, “Just hurry up.”

Cheshire slipped back inside his suit as fast as he could, zipping the one-piece clothing on the front. He endeavored to reach for the zipper on his back but he failed to pull it up time and time again.

“Are you done?” Rocket asked.

“Almost,” Cheshire replied, “Just have to close the zipper on the back.”

Rocket turned and walked over to Cheshire, “Who designed your suit anyway?” he asked, “Why put a zipper where you can’t reach?”

“It’s for easy access whenever I need stabilizing.”

Rocket raised a brow as he pulled the zipper up, “You’re unstable?”

Cheshire began, “These radiators on my back are what allow me to float and evaporate.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Rocket interjected, “I don’t know any technology that could alter the form of matter according to will.”

“With proper _materials_ , a technology such as this one is very possible,” Cheshire jumped to the air to demonstrate. “You’re not in your universe, Rocket,” Cheshire reminded, “Earth 616’s equivalent in this universe is Earth 10005 and that place is teeming with humans having irregular DNA. They call them mutants.”

“Mutants?” Rocket repeated like it was the most absurd thing ever.

“My scientist found a human that could float and evaporate to his will so she kidnapped him and took his DNA. She tortured us both until the human died. Ali—” Cheshire paused, almost blurting out the name of his scientist. He corrected himself, “My scientist couldn’t care less if he was alive or not. She just needed his body. She performed experiments in creating these radiators now on my back running with that human’s fluids.”

“You mentioned that you needed stabilizing,” Rocket remembered, “Why?”

“These radiators are imperfect,” Cheshire answered, “My scientist wanted to recreate them but I no longer wanted to undergo torture.” Cheshire took a rock and placed it on his palm. With his hand, the rock was able to evaporate and materialize once again. “I have a small radius of influence,” Cheshire explained, “It could be just a body-fit influence or a meter radius, depending on my will and because of that, I am able to vaporize things with me. However…”

“You’re unstable,” Rocket guessed, “And sometimes the radius of influence gets out of hand.”

“Almost,” Cheshire said, “If I get too unstable, I’ll vanish completely, vaporizing everything around me.” He chuckled and added, “Nothing can block it not even the strongest material. Everything made of matter will evaporate.”

Rocket swallowed. He was afraid, no doubt. And he hasn’t felt this strong a sensation before since he witnessed the power of an infinity stone. He no longer looked at Cheshire like he was some fellow from Halfworld. Rocket saw him as a weapon—a very dangerous one.

Cheshire saw the fear in Rocket’s eyes. He landed on the ground and reassured the terrified raccoon, “I’ve just been stabilized. You have nothing to fear as long as you’re with me.”

“You can’t say that when you’re a ticking bomb!” Rocket yelled.

“I am not a bomb,” Cheshire lied. At least he wasn’t a time-bomb like Rocket guessed.

“Well never mind that,” Rocket flailed his hands, “When do you think you’ll destabilize?”

“About a few moons,” Cheshire replied dryly, “You’re long gone by then.” He turned his back and walked to the river. “We won’t be able to move safely during day,” he said, “Why don’t we head in town for a drink? We both need it.”


	7. The Little Clockwork Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rocket and Cheshire went to spend the day drinking in a small inn at the town when things got a little out of hand when Cheshire became drunk.

The alien planet had the most peculiar technology Rocket has ever seen. It was like the stone age of galactic technology where function relied on clogs turning against each other. He found it odd, a mile away, when he started hearing ticking sounds. When he saw the small town, he had an epiphany of what Cheshire said when all else is ‘recharging’.

The town literally recharges during night in order for it to function during day. The buildings had the architecture of straw cottages and huts but had automatic metal doors and metal walls. The townsfolk were mostly creaky robots and if there were any humanoids, they would either be part clock (according to Rocket) or animalistic.

Cheshire walked in front of Rocket, leading the way into the small town when Rocket caught up and whispered, “I would just like you to know that I don’t drink motor oil for sustenance.”

Cheshire looked at Rocket for a second before rolling his eyes, “As you can clearly see, not everyone in the population is robots. Some are still part flesh which requires organic things to consume.”

“You suddenly lost your sense of humor?” Rocket folded his arms, “I was joking.”

“You sounded so serious.”

“That’s part of it.”

They stopped by a small inn. The wall had a gradient overlay of rust, darkest at the base and just crept up all over. The metallic door ceased to function and needed a little punch for it to lift up. Rocket stared with a dumbfounded face as he watched the feline perform tricks to get the door opening. It appeared, though, as the inn had its own passcodes before access.

The innkeeper was a fat woman behind the counter seeming busy albeit she had few customers. She was part metal as most of the humanoids with a cybernetics eye and a prosthetic left hand. She knew Cheshire for a long time by the look on her face when she suddenly lit up after spotting the blue feline.

She dashed out of the counter, revealing her half body that was no more than a complicated unicycle. She had one tire, carrying all of the weight of her body. It was no wonder she couldn’t be still. When she wasn’t doing anything, she had to balance herself.

“Chess!” The woman swept Cheshire off the ground and spun him around once. When she laid him back on the floor, she spotted Rocket and gave him a warm smile. “I see you have a fine one this time. One room to go?”

“Oh no,” Cheshire pushed his hands as a gesture, “We’re only here for a drink and perhaps a meal for my friend.”

“I see,” the woman kept on smiling. If she could shove Cheshire with her elbow, she would be doing it repeatedly. “First, fill in the stomach for some stamina, eh?”

Cheshire looked over to Rocket and scratched the back of his head sheepishly, “No, Lourdes. We’re just here to drink.”

Lourdes nodded once but her face remained unconvinced. “Have a seat then, lads. Well, let me know if you change your mind, Chess. A room is always available for ya’” She winked and dashed back into the counter to prepare their meal.

When Cheshire and Rocket were both seated, Rocket demanded some answers about the earlier predicament. “A lot of things were implied back there,” Rocket opened the conversation, “Just what does that fat lady thought of me?”

“She thought you and I were going to…” Cheshire groaned and rubbed his eyes, “Don’t be a saint,” he defended, “I’m sure you’d had plenty yourself. You’re very charismatic.”

“Yeah. Sure,” Rocket didn’t believe Cheshire’s last remark, “I’ve had plenty of drinks. Females—zero… well there was one.”

Cheshire’s ears perked up.

“Her name is Lylla,” Rocket continued, “The only female I ever loved but as far as my life goes, we’re separated.”

“Haven’t you tried looking for another?” Cheshire asked, “I understand if it’s love but haven’t you tried seeking temporary ties just to relieve the pain?”

“Drinks relieve my pain,” Rocket answered the moment Cheshire finished, “Everywhere in the galaxy, when they look at me; they see two things exclusively in order: a cute animal to pet and a little monster that bit them.”

“I don’t understand—”

“Of course you don’t,” Rocket raised his voice, “You’ve never been out there like I have.”

“I mean I don’t understand how they could see you as a little monster,” Cheshire chuckled subtly, “If I was one of those who petted you and got bitten, I would be really glad.”

“Of course you would,” Rocket interjected, “You’re a psycho. And I wouldn’t bite a psycho.”

Cheshire winked, “I’d take it as an invitation to advance it further.”

“The universe isn’t for you,” Rocket remarked, “Perhaps you’re better off contained in a planet.”

“So I’ve been told,” Cheshire laughed, “But imagine the mayhem I’d create if I were there. Lifeforms would fall all over me.”

“You wouldn’t be doing a better job than I have,” Rocket spat, “You’d just be petted wherever you go.”

“It starts with a touch,” Cheshire added, “And gradually moves on.”

Rocket opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Lourdes who came in carrying a tray of food and two pints of golden-looking beverages. The aroma of the food was irresistible or Rocket was just hungry but the moment it was placed before him, he grabbed the plate and gobbled whatever dish was served.

It was also then when Cheshire excused himself to have a word with Lourdes.

Rocket followed the feline and the cyborg with his eyes as the duo made their way by the counter. Cheshire seated on a stool as his lips moved with whatever words he let go. Rocket kept close watch although what they were talking about was beyond his auditory sense.

Lourdes wiped a mug with tablecloth, nodding once or twice to whatever the cat was saying. A few moments more, Lourdes dropped the mug and it shattered on the floor. She placed both hands on the counter, looking devastated.

Cheshire gestured with his hands and kept on. A few seconds more, the cyborg covered her mouth with her hands and began crying. She embraced Cheshire and patted him on the back before finally cleaning up the shards of the mug.

Cheshire was walking back to their table by then and Rocket pretended to have not been observing them.

“Whatcha do?” Rocket asked as he chewed on his food.

Lourdes came in once again, carrying a tray with numerous pints. “It’s on the house,” she sniffled and managed to look horrible with tears in a span of minutes.

“What just happened?” Rocket asked.

“What just happened,” Cheshire took one mug in hand and drank it halfway through, “Is that I have managed to get all of these for free. I hope you have a strong gut for drinking.”

Rocket kept on eating, tearing meat with his teeth. “What did you tell her?”

Cheshire drank the rest of the alcohol and slammed the mug on the table. “Told her I was leaving and that I was going to miss her,” Cheshire hiccupped, “You’ve had your fill with that. Drink with me!”

***

Rocket was just about in his third round when Cheshire was already piling empty mugs. Lourdes dashed to and from the counter delivering trays of pints and the drunk kitty seemed to have the intention of emptying the keg.

“You know I drink a lot myself,” Rocket set aside his half-empty mug, “But I don’t drink this much.”

Cheshire belched and hiccupped, pouring down alcohol down his throat before slamming the mug on the wooden table with a satisfied grunt. “The day is long and it’s hardly noon. What else are we going to do the rest of the day?”

“Plan out,” Rocket suggested, “Create strategies—what we’ll do once we’re in the castle?”

Cheshire waved Rocket’s suggestions off with his hand, “It won’t matter.” He pulled in a deep breath before letting another gastric sigh out of his system. “Once we get there, we’ll casually be walking to the spaceport like a morning stroll in the park.”

“I don’t know if it’s the alcohol talking but what kind of palace has no security during night?” Rocket tapped his finger on the table, annoyed of the drunk cat. Of the many things he hates, talking to drunks without getting drunk himself is one of them.

Cheshire didn’t reply. After emptying another mug, he searched the table for more but found that in his reach were all empty containers. Lourdes was about to deliver more again but Rocket stopped her in the distance with the signal of his hand.

When he turned to the drunk feline, he wasn’t there anymore and so was his half-empty mug. He looked around and spotted vapor wafting in place of Cheshire. It materialized in a hiccup and Cheshire fell back to his seat hugging the empty glass with a stupid look on his face.

Rocket rolled his eyes. He didn’t even get to enjoy his drink. “Hope you had your fill,” Rocket said, “Just make sure you’re sober before nightfall. I don’t want you to be misleading me elsewhere.”

“Such a sourpuss,” Cheshire hiccupped and floated to sit on top of the empty mugs, “Now I’m wondering if you’re really sour.” He leaned in, eyes narrowing to slits but before he could make contact, Rocket blocked the cat’s mouth with his hand.

“You’re drunk, sleep it off,” the raccoon suggested.

Cheshire turned into vapor and surrounded Rocket in a wall of smoke. Then he materialized sitting on top of Rocket, holding the very hand Rocket used to cover his mouth. “Come on,” Cheshire whispered, “Just one taste.”

Rocket growled. He jerked his hand from the cat and pulled him behind the neck. He kissed Cheshire hard, biting outside his mouth before forcing his way inside. They shared the taste of alcohol in their exchange of breaths.

“Am I still a sourpuss?” Rocket withdrew an inch away from Cheshire’s mouth and kissed him hard again before pushing him off. Although drunk, Cheshire was surprised at Rocket’s response. He didn’t expect he’d actually get a kiss from the raccoon. It was all about making jokes.

The sensation of Rocket’s tongue exploring his mouth lingered and refused to go away. Cheshire’s never been kissed before. It was always him who performed and having someone else do it to him made him feel submissive.

He followed Rocket with his eyes before floating to ride on Rocket’s back, wrapping his hands around Rocket’s neck. He didn’t say anything. He just took the moment to embrace Rocket and nuzzle his face on the raccoon’s fur.

He got off and went to the counter. “I think I may have overdone the alcohol today,” he laughed sheepishly. “I’ll sober up upstairs. Feel free to rent a separate room if you need to rest.” Thereafter he vanished into a cloud of vapor making its way to the second floor of the building.

Rocket turned to the door, about to walk out when he changed his mind about going elsewhere. He traced his mouth, where the sensation of the kiss earlier remained before shaking it off. He went upstairs.


	8. The Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: contains a mild sex scene. Search for the time skip mark (***) to skip to the essential part of the chapter. Skipping the first segment does not affect the plot flow. Thank you.

When Rocket came upon the room where Cheshire rested, he wasn’t really sure what he was going to do. He had a vague idea that if he appeared, things might get a little below the belt and he expected that. Perhaps it was the two and a half mugs of alcohol working inside his system, stimulating his sensitivity to seek.

He had a little argument inside his head that he should just play it cool and just get carried by the moment. Let whatever’s going to happen govern his actions. He first collected his thoughts outside the door so that he would maintain his nonchalance. After all, a nervous attitude is a major turn off.

Just get in and pull him in, Rocket thought. No words, no staring contests—just walk and perform. He took a last deep breath before opening the metal door that lead to the drunken feline’s room. He was stopped on his tracks, quite not what he expected, after seeing the cat—bloodied and scratched—hovering above the bed.

He was bare on his top. His adamantium claws ravaging the flesh near his spine where the stitches were formerly resealed. He cried as he kept on running his claws on the deep scratch-wounds, muttering vague curses. Rocket closed the door behind him and walked over to Cheshire.

“What happened?” Rocket asked, looking at the bed getting soaked by blood. It rained crimson on the mattress as the drunken Cheshire kept on tracing the wounds with his sharp claws.

Rocket grabbed Cheshire by the tail and pulled him down so he could reach in for his hands. The moment he touched Cheshire’s arm, the cat acted by reflex, swiping Rocket and hitting him on the face.

Rocket grunted as his face was slapped the direction where Cheshire’s claw went. Blood trickled down from the three lines Cheshire created and it was then when he realized what he’s done.

“Rocket…” Cheshire whispered his name as he slowly descended to the floor. He reached in for the wounds with his hand but stopped as he saw the blood—Rocket’s blood—still tainting his claws. He pulled back his hand to a fist as if forbidding himself from ever touching Rocket again and turned around, about to jump away.

Rocket stopped him. By merely touching one radiator with a finger on Cheshire’s back, the cat was unable evaporate lest he vaporize Rocket with him.

“Just you try,” Rocket said and placed his whole hand on Cheshire’s shoulder. He pulled him in slowly for an unexpected embrace.

Cheshire collapsed inside Rocket’s hug, weeping. He nuzzled his face on Rocket’s neck as he gasped for air in his uncontained cry.

Rocket was just beginning to understand and he hadn’t the slightest idea why Cheshire was hurting himself.

“I don’t want to go…” Cheshire whispered in the recesses of his sob, “I thought I could… but now I want to stay… more than ever.”

Rocket’s acerbic façade crumbled just as the cat’s mysterious visage was crumbling. And he found himself petting the back of Cheshire’s head just to replace his gasps with a purr. Slowly, the cat began to settle and all Rocket could feel at that time was their warmth against each other, their weights in one another’s support.

“You know I once almost killed a friend of mine because I was really drunk,” Rocket comforted Cheshire, “Since I really didn’t know him back then, I assumed that he was laughing at me… calling me names… calling me a little monster but my point is, when you’re drunk, you make lousy assumptions. Just don’t give in to those or you might wake up full of regrets.”

Cheshire purred. Rocket’s touch finally got to him. “Drunk or not, I really don’t want to go.”

“Like I said,” Rocket scratched harder, “It’s the alcohol talking. You might say that now but if you stay here, you’ll regret not escaping with me. I mean, what’s this place ever done to you besides keep you as a prisoner with an assigned role?”

“You’re right,” Cheshire said albeit he and Rocket were totally on different matters. Cheshire wasn’t referring to not wanting to go out of Wonderland. He referred to not wanting to go to the afterlife. “It’s selfish of me to think like this,” Cheshire swallowed, “It’s everybody’s freedom or mine.” He broke the hug and stood at a distance from Rocket. He looked down, embarrassed of his smile at such an untimely setting.

Rocket knew how to make him feel better. He cupped Cheshire’s chin and lifted his face up. “I say your smile is very creepy and just looks inopportune at situations like this but… I’m getting used to it now.”

Cheshire opened his mouth to protest but Rocket didn’t give him a chance. Before he could say anything, Rocket gently paired his lips with Cheshire. The cat’s fur bristled and his tail bushed from surprise. The difference of this kiss from earlier was that Rocket was actually gentle. He merely touched his mouth with Cheshire’s and when the cat relaxed from surprise, Rocket took the opportunity to explore deeper.

Wilder and wilder, Rocket became as his hands turned into explorers themselves. He placed one hand behind Cheshire’s neck, pulling him so close their bodies touched. Then he positioned both hands behind Cheshire’s leg, carrying the bloody cat on the tainted mattress before climbing up himself.

Rocket liked the feel of Cheshire’s tongue running against his. It was bristly, abrupt and ecstatic—the very source of his oral rapture. Deeper into frenzy, Rocket didn’t give a damn about the messy place. He couldn’t care less that they were lying on a blood soaked bed.

He withdrew inches away from Cheshire’s mouth just to unzip his suit before ravaging the bluish feline once again. When he looked back up, their eyes locked for a moment and everything paused.

Rocket was the first to say something. “Why are you looking like that?” he asked.

Cheshire snapped out from his trance after realizing the question. “Was I staring awkwardly?” he returned.

Rocket pecked him on the lips, “You were. What, you don’t like it?”

“I do,” Cheshire wrapped his hands around Rocket’s neck, pulling up to return the kiss. “Why would I not?”

“I don’t know…” Rocket trailed off, “Big guns hurt?”

Cheshire shot him a sly face before licking Rocket’s nose with his bristly tongue, “At first, they do.”

“So you’ve had experience?” Rocket asked.

“No,” Cheshire answered, “It’s what they all say.”

Rocket lifted his weight up with his forearms so as he would be hovering above Cheshire for better conversation. “The fat lady implied that you’re a frequent visitor here with various partners. Are you suddenly telling me you don’t have experience?”

“Not quite,” Cheshire trailed off, “I’m always the pitcher. I was never the catcher… until now. What about you? What’s your excuse?”

Rocket shrugged, “I’ve got none. I haven’t done it before not even with Lylla. And nobody else wants to do it with a little monster.” He sounded down and even looked away after recalling such stale experiences.

Cheshire placed his hand on Rocket’s cheek, “How unfortunate for them that they missed a rarity in the entire universe.”

“You’re a seducer, you know that?” Rocket touched the hand that rested on his face. He leaned in to kiss Cheshire. “Is that how you get all your mates? That won’t work out there, however. Up there, you gotta be as toxic as possible to protect yourself from all sorts of folks.”

“Is that why you were so cranky yesterday?” Cheshire asked, “Never thought I’d have someone like you.”

Rocket snorted. He pulled Cheshire by the legs and unzipped his pants down, taking it off. “Enough chitchat, kitty,” Rocket smirked, “Just prepare yourself.”

***

They were bare inside each other’s arms. Cheshire rested on top of Rocket’s shoulder as he embraced the raccoon. There was a calm silence between them occasionally broken by the tired gasps of their previous intimate encounter. Rocket stared at the ceiling not knowing where else to look since he was haunted by two things: the guilt after a climatic end and the unwanted excitement of the next time it happens.

“Promise me one thing,” Cheshire said as they rested comfortably, “I think I’m sober enough to say this.”

“I’m not good with promises,” Rocket replied immediately, “You can make me promise but there’s no guarantee I’ll keep it.”

Cheshire climbed on top of Rocket, taking one of the raccoon’s hands to pair with his. “At least try…”

Rocket took a while but he eventually accepted it. “Fine. I’ll try.”

“If all goes well, you’d be leaving this planet tonight.”

“Uh-huh,” Rocket replied, “So?”

“Promise me you’ll never return.”

Rocket scratched the back of his head, “This is a lousy planet. Why would I return?”

Cheshire’s smile stretched down but failed to become something else other than what it already is. “Exactly… don’t ever return, okay?”

“Never,” Rocket crossed his chest, “I mean we are in another universe. Once we find a way back to our original universe, we’d most likely never get back here.”

Cheshire heaved in a deep breath and let it out. “Only you, I’m afraid.”

“What?” Rocket almost yelled, “You said you were sober. Why do you still want to stay?”

Cheshire bit his lip. “I have an unfinished business with a particular Xandarian looney,” he chuckled. “I promise, once I free everyone here from…” Cheshire paused, wanting to conceal the name of the culprit behind all of this but decided to just finally say it. He continued, “After I free everyone from Alice, I’ll find my way to you.”

Rocket sat up, leaning against the bedrest to better analyze what the cat was telling him. “Let’s say for instance, you don’t come and we never see each other again. What am I supposed to do?”

“Keep the promise as your remnant of me. Don’t come back to this planet in this universe,” Cheshire said almost too warily like his voice was being broken into a thousand silent whispers.

“So you’re basically making me promise to forget about you,” Rocket folded his arms in front of him and looked away. “Why didn’t you just say so in the first place? Why did you have to flourish it so much? I can take a direct hit.”

“It’s not that… Rocket I…” Cheshire choked on his own breath and at the same time, Rocket got off the bed and picked up his suit.

“It’s a simple enough task for me,” Rocket said as he put his pants on, “Don’t worry. Once I board the ship, you never existed. Poof,” he mimicked an explosion sound, “Gone like how you vanish all the time.”

“Rocket—”

“Don’t follow me. I’ll be back once it’s dark.” He walked out of the door.


	9. The White Rabbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rift had just opened up between Cheshire and Rocket. The raccoon headed out to collect his thoughts when another fellow from Halfworld seemed to have caught Rocket's attention.

The memory of how it happened lingered inside Cheshire’s mind. There were aftersensations sticking around his hands which intertwined with Rocket’s; his mouth which was almost sore from the raccoon’s playful kisses and the parts where they shared each other the most. The memory remained like it was etched on stone despite Cheshire being drunk the whole time. It wasn’t like a dream that he could just forget seconds after waking up. He will carry it for the rest of his remaining days.

He still kept a lot of things from Rocket. The mystery wasn’t fully unveiled just as Rocket believes at the moment. What Rocket knew was but the pinnacle of an iceberg. He was still oblivious of what lies underneath. And Cheshire tended to keep it that way.

It hurt Cheshire massively when Rocket misunderstood the promise he wanted him to keep. And it had to happen when they just opened up to each other… when Rocket opened up, at least. It would be hypocritical of Cheshire to think he showed his true nature to Rocket when he’s hiding so many things from him.

And it was one of the reasons why he didn’t stop Rocket from leaving. Cheshire felt like he didn’t have the right to stop Rocket and he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from blurting his plan of exploding to save everybody else. Perhaps falling in love with the raccoon was a bad idea after all. Rocket became Cheshire’s anchor to life.

***

Rocket sat on top of a tree branch somewhere beyond the rim of the small town. He pieced off a fruit which he got from the inn and nibbled on it bit by bit just to have a taste. The sun was at the top of the sky where its rays cast no shadow. Rocket enjoyed his seat shaded by a leafy oak and the wooden texture beneath him reminded him of Groot.

It’s only been a day—almost—since he arrived but time, no matter how short, knew how to make things sentimental.

He did his best to relax but he was bothered by the previous incident. He couldn’t shut his eyes much less keep his body still. He always tapped his finger, swung his foot and kept on shifting positions, trying to find the best comfortable spot on the branch but it was nonexistent… not while he didn’t have the slightest idea why Cheshire wanted to part with him all of the sudden.

It was true, what Rocket said, that Cheshire didn’t need to beautify his simple intent to part. What did Rocket expect? That someone would finally love him? In the end it was all about sex. And it was awful… pathetic. It made Rocket think how Peter found comfort in lying with different females. For him, sharing his self was more than for just the pleasure. It was getting to link his soul with another one—something he hadn’t even done with Lylla and they’ve been together far longer than him and Cheshire. They’ve only met twenty-four hours ago, less.

Perhaps that’s what bothered Rocket—the fact that he took something seriously only to get played back in the end. The cat was a seducer who had lain with multiple partners and even if what he said was true—that Rocket was the first one he gave himself to—there’s no guarantee that he would feel the same feeling Rocket has right now. He didn’t even stop Rocket when Rocket walked out. It was a good enough proof.

Rocket ran his hands down his face, heaving out a deep sigh with it. He slapped himself multiple times to try and cope with the incident. Why, if Peter Quill could do it, so can him. He was far better than Peter after all, or so he thinks.

He relaxed on the tree branch and laid his back on the horizontal platform. His arms and legs dangled below as he made up what he could of the sky covered by a curtain of leaves. Everything was calm—the breeze, the sounds and the forest. He thought he’d never be able to relax but peace was finally coming to him.

He placed his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, letting the sounds become his lullaby to forget the nonsense that happened earlier. The leaves rustled as the wind howled ever so gently and in the mix of sounds added a snapping twig.

Rocket’s ear perked to the direction where the sound came from and he opened one eye to scan the environment. Nothing seemed to be there but more sight of greens. He went back to relaxing when there sounded something that scurried to his direction. This time, he was sure that something was approaching.

He sat up and looked around him. He saw the figure of something white run behind from one tree to another.

“If you’re going to sneak up on me, do a better job,” Rocket yelled, “I already saw you.”

From the tree peeked out a goggled white rabbit. His nose twitched, as if trying to get a whiff of Rocket’s scent.

“Who the hell are you?” Rocket asked and jumped off the tree.

The white rabbit revealed himself, jumping toward Rocket’s direction. He wore a tunic above his jumpsuit with alternating colors of red and white. His eyes were concealed by thick round goggles, nothing cybernetic—just plain. Before saying anything else, the white rabbit reached in his hand toward Rocket.

“Mctwisp,” he smiled, revealing his frontal buck teeth.

Rocket looked at Mctwisp’s gauntleted hand. It was the most peculiar technology he’s ever seen. Quite outdated and seemed to have run on steam. And without being sure of what the gauntlet actually did, Rocket played safe and didn’t touch it.

“Call me Rocket,” he said, “What do you want?”

Mctwisp withdrew his hand, patting invisible dust before chortling his way to conversation. “Ah, yes. I was just passing by when I saw a new face in Wonderland.”

“I’m not from here obviously,” Rocket said dryly, “And I ain’t gonna be here long.”

“What’s with the hurry?” the rabbit seemed to have no idea that Rocket knew what Wonderland really was. And Rocket took the opportunity to try and get the rabbit to spit out his true intent.

“I just need to get back up there,” Rocket leaned his back on the tree’s trunk.

The rabbit hopped closer, fiddling his weaponized hand with the other. “Discover the planet first before you leave,” Mctwisp chuckled, “Just so that your visit won’t be in vain.”

Rocket was sure that the white rabbit was up to no good. If he had his bazooka with him, he’d shoot the rabbit out of sight but as of the moment, between the two of them, only the rabbit had a weapon. And he couldn’t risk his safety. He has to play it cool.

“What’s so good about this planet anyway?” Rocket asked, keeping himself calm.

“Oh a lot of things,” Mctwisp said.

Rocket swallowed. The rabbit was definitely trying to lure him.

“I could show you if you would come with me,” the rabbit offered his hand to Rocket once again.

Rocket stood up straight and pretended to reach for the rabbit’s hand before he turned away in surprise and headed towards the city.

“I tried to be polite,” the rabbit said and aimed his weapon at Rocket. With one fire, a ball of electricity homed for Rocket, electrocuting the raccoon the soonest it made contact.

Rocket stumbled on the ground, paralyzed. Slowly, his vision began to blur.

***

He was now trapped behind the rusty bars of a cage. He was in a dark place illuminated dimly by some luminescent mushrooms growing in bunches at specific locations. There was a spark not so far away like someone was welding iron. And a few moments later, the same white rabbit approached Rocket.

“You’re awake, I see,” he adjusted his goggles tighter against his face, “Though you would wish that you’d wake up earlier or never at all.”

“What the hell?” Rocket got up and fought the intense throbbing on his head. “What do you want from me?”

Mctwisp hopped in the dark and came back to the light pushing a wheelchair with straps. “All of you.” he said and reached in for a metallic rod Rocket could only guess was an electrocuting device.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific, Goggles,” Rocket leaned against the bars, “Because someone just had me.”

Mctwisp paused, one ear turning to the raccoon, “Is that so? Had that someone harvested anything from you? If yes, name the material I’ll retrieve it immediately.”

Rocket blurted out a laugh—so loud it echoed through the emptiness of the underground laboratory he was held captive in. “You clearly missed the joke, Fluff.” Rocket grunted as he fixed his sitting position.

Like the joke that flew right over the rabbit’s head, Rocket’s point was no different. “If you’re still in one piece, that’s all that matters.”

“Question,” Rocket coughed to adjust his voice, “What exactly is it that you want with me?”

“I just said it,” the rabbit spun the metal rod in his hand, “All of you. Your cybernetic skeleton, your enhanced cerebral cortex—anything I could use to create weapons.”

“This ain’t your lucky day, Whitey,” Rocket groaned, “Look around your junk. There’s nothing there that could be compatible with the tech inside me.”

“With the right modifications, anything can be compatible with anything,” the rabbit said, “Do not fret however. Let me motivate you for a more relaxing death. Your sacrifice will save one planet.”

“How’s that going to motivate me?” Rocket spat, “I’m no hero, Rabbit. I won’t give up my life for a petty planet.”

Mctwisp sighed. “Shame… you’ll have to die for it anyway.”

Rocket got up and held the rusty bars inside his knuckles. He slipped his snout between the gaps and whispered loudly, just for the irony of it. “From what I see, you’re not very intelligent.” He mocked the rabbit, “Taking pieces of me will create nothing.”

“You’re right,” Mctwisp agreed, running the metal rod against the bars and tapped it on Rocket’s nose once. “Which is why I decided to keep your parts together… with a little add-ons of my own tech. I’ll have my own Bandersnatch but much smaller.”

“Bander-what?” Rocket repeated.

“Bandersnatch,” Mctwisp clarified, “A fearsome, powerful, loyal beast to fight for our freedom. That’s you,” Mctwisp pointed the rod at Rocket, “After I’m done opening you up.”

There was a tinge of fear showing in Rocket’s eyes but he made sure that Mctwisp wouldn’t see through him. Out of this mess, he’ll figure something out. He will not become anyone’s mindless slave.


	10. The One-man Rebellion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had been working for years on a rebellion that will never happen.

There were wires coming in and out of him. Metallic rods tore through his flesh, artificial pathways delivered fluids to and from containers. He was restrained standing in a cylinder surrounded by glass. The worst part of it was that he was awake the whole time. He witnessed and he felt how he was cut and drugged. And he wasn’t leaving his prison any time soon.

The white rabbit with hands crimson from blood didn’t seem to give the slightest damn. He was entitled to what he said and there was no stopping him.

Rocket put a lot of effort in trying to lift his head up but only resulted in a slight twitch. He still wasn’t at his wit’s end. Even in his miserable state, he didn’t dare to lose himself. “Y-you still don’t get that you don’t have anything you could use to program…” Rocket chuckled weakly, “You really are stupid.”

Mctwisp hopped from one corner of the lab to the other, retrieving materials looking painfully sharp.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Mctwisp pulled a crate from under a messy table. “I’ve found junk in the castle.”

Rocket forced himself to look up just to have a glimpse before his head limped out of control. It was the tech he got from Knowhere. “T-that’s mine…” Rocket exhaled, “H-how did you…”

“It was in the red queen’s castle,” Mctwisp opened the crate and dug through the items, “And anybody from here knows that you could just about waltz your way stealing from the castle during night.”

Rocket coughed blood and tried wiping away the traces of it but found that he couldn’t. He wasn’t in control of his arms. “If it’s that easy why don’t you all just escape at night?”

“Pardon?” Mctwisp turned to Rocket, carrying junk from the crate.

“In the spaceport… at night… why don’t you all just leave?”

Mctwisp hopped back to the crate. “There is a spaceport but there are no spaceships,” he said, “There was one where I got this crate but when I tried activating it, it failed.”

The white rabbit went to one of the machines attached to Rocket. He turned something from it and Rocket felt a surge inside his system, dulling his nerves even more. He completely lost control of whatever parts he had control left. And his consciousness was failing as well.

The last he heard as his vision blurred was the chime of a loud bell.

***

In the never-ending teatime past the Tulgey woods, Nivens Mctwisp hopped along with a face so smug his grin appeared larger than that of Cheshire himself. He brought good news with him and thought that his friends deserved to know that freedom will soon be theirs.

Along the shifting path he made his way as fast as he could until he could hear the cacophony of whistling kettles. A few distances more, he could smell the aroma of brewing tea. It was the time of the day where he had to play his role as the white rabbit that hops along landmarks across Wonderland. And it just so happened that the first landmark was the mad T party.

“Friends!” he made a grand entrance, throwing his hands in the air as he bore the news.

The March hare threw him a teacup, yelling, “You’re late for tea!” before melting down to laughter.

Mctwisp evaded nonchalantly as he was already used to the March hare’s impulses. “I see you’re already mad, Thackery,” Mctwisp remarked and pulled out an old chair across the mad Hatter.

“Mctwisp…” the hatter wasn’t very delighted in seeing him. “Of course,” he added after a few seconds and pulled out an old pocket watch, “It’s _the_ time of the day, my bad. How could I have not heard the loud chime? It’s just that I never get used to you coming here every day.” There was sarcasm in the hatter’s voice though he managed to make it sound like he was glad to see the white rabbit.

“I sense that you don’t like my presence,” Mctwisp pointed out, fiddling his fingers. The hatter didn’t reply and Mctwisp didn’t know how to bring the news in so instead he asked the whereabouts of the dormouse. “Is Mallymkun around?”

“At this time of the day, where would Mally be?” the hatter uttered with pure sarcasm.

Then a faint lilting voice echoed from inside a teapot just at Mctwisp’s hand’s reach. “Don’t drink the tea in here,” Mallymkun said and exited from the snout of the teapot. “It’ll taste salty.”

“Hello, Mally,” Mctwisp waved and smiled but like the hatter, Mallymkun wasn’t very delighted to see him.

None of the trio seemed to have entertained the white rabbit’s presence with two being upset by a previous doing and one simply unable to be spoken to.

“I bear good news,” Mctwisp began, “I finally have something that could rival Alice’s—”

“Stop right there,” the hatter interjected, standing up from his seat. His eyes were covered by the rim of his hat as he faced low on the table. “Nothing here could rival Alice’s defenses. Not even if you steal the whole town, dismantle and reassemble it.”

“You’re not still upset about _that_ , are you?” Mctwisp fiddled his fingers.

Hatter looked up, revealing his face half metallic. “You’ve no honor, Mctwisp. You’re a liar.”

“It was necessary,” Mctwisp raised his voice. “If I hadn’t lied, there will be no rebellion.”

Mallymkun pointed a dot of laser to Mctwisp’s eye, just to get his attention. “There is no rebellion, Mctwisp. And there will never be.”

Mctwisp angled his face out of the focused light, “You’re both wrong,” he looked at Mallymkun, “For years I’ve been creating weapons with what’s available. I steal, so what? That’s a small sacrifice for _our_ freedom!”

“You, stealing, are not the issue here,” Mallymkun whispered and looked to Thackery’s direction. He tried as much as he can to keep the March hare unaware of their conversation. “It’s what you did when you got caught.”

Mctwisp got silenced for a moment and looked at the oblivious hare just by the side of the table. Thackery’s constant shivering, his impulse at throwing things and his barely communicable attitude—he wasn’t going mad. He already was.

“What do you want me to say?” Mctwisp sighed, “That I should have turned myself in? If I did, then the rebellion that’s about to come will not be possible.”

“You have an enhanced cerebral cortex,” the hatter poured himself a cup of tea, “So does Mally here, Thackery and Chess.” He took a sip before sitting back on his chair comfortably, “So could you please tell me why you can’t understand that from the very beginning, Alice sealed every possible route of escape?”

Mctwisp looked down then back to the hatter, opening his mouth to reply but to his failure, no voice came out. His chest was hurting from the guilt that’s catching up.

The hatter continued, “Alice thought leagues ahead of us. She stripped us of the technology we know and made sure the materials that circulate this planet is completely useless. Even if we build a thousand weapons from scrap, or make defenses with layers of bronze and copper, she’ll wipe us all out with just one of hers.”

“If we’re lucky, heh-heh-heh-,” Thackery interjected while looking at his reflection in the cup of tea, “Alice told me that ‘erself when sh’strapped me in da’ lab! That sh’won’t kill us.” As quickly as he was reminded of his retribution, Thackery returned to his old, mad self, asking for some sugar.

“I suggest you stop whatever you are doing, Nivens,” the hatter placed the cup of tea back on the table. “Our freedom _will_ come.”

“Are you suggesting that we wait Alice’s natural death?” Mctwisp slammed his hands on the table, standing up, “With her lifestyle, she will outlive all of us! We will all die as prisoners before that happen.”

“No…” the hatter sounded down, “Cheshire will free us.”

Mctwisp flinched at the sound of the cat’s name. “What’s that coward gonna do?” Mctwisp folded his arms and looked away. “Countless times I’ve asked him. With his skill, he could just sneak up on Alice and assassinate her but did he do it?”

“He took into account the possibility that Alice would detect and capture him. Which is very possible,” Mallymkun defended, “As she had been able to contain the original bearer of that power.”

“If I was given that power, I would have long assassinated Alice,” Mctwisp boasted, “All the cat has ever done were disappear in the face of danger, disobey the law just because he could escape easily and…” he paused, blushing underneath his fur, failing to continue. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t trust him.”

“The cat’s a bloody bomb for heaven’s sake!” the hatter bursts, “I tinkered with his radiators myself and added magnetic enhancers to increase the range of the explosion.”

“You. Did. What?” Mctwisp gritted his teeth and pointed his gauntlet at the mad hatter, “How could you do that to him?” sparks flickered by the palm of the gauntlet. Mctwisp was about to shoot and the hatter said nothing to stop him. Instead, he just stood there like an idle target.

Mallymkun dove in, climbing in front of the white rabbit’s face to divert his attention. “It was Chess’s decision.”

The white rabbit was even more surprised but he contained his awe and dropped his hand to the side of his waist. “He… asked for it?”

Mallymkun nodded, releasing a breath of relief before jumping back on the table.

“Yes,” Mallymkun said shortly after.

“But why would he do something like that?” Mctwisp looked at his gauntlet. He relaxed by the backrest of the chair and guessed every reason why the cat would give up his life. He was worried—so worried that just by thinking Cheshire’s name, he became very anxious.

“Perhaps he was tired of living like this and longed for something more than freedom,” the hatter adjusted his top.

Thackery exploded into laughter, throwing spoons in the air, “Or t’lil kitty’s in love! Heh-heh-heh.”

Both Mallymkun and the hatter looked at Thackery and then back to Mctwisp.

“He did say that he got the idea because of a fellow from Halfworld,” Mallymkun said, “I wish I could have met the fellow though.”

The Hatter added, “He’ll detonate after he gets Rocket out the planet.”

Nivens Mctwisp got up from the table, stretching out the creases of his tunic. “He won’t,” he turned around and walked away, muttering under his breath, “Because that raccoon isn’t going anywhere.”


	11. The Familiar Scent

It had been dark a few hours ago and Rocket didn’t return. Perhaps that was enough to send Cheshire looking for him. Wonderland wasn’t a very wonderful place to visitors after all and he regretted that he didn’t stop Rocket.

Many things were left unspoken between them and with the exclusion of some Rocket should know the rest. It was Rocket who played it cool back then. He was the reason for their intimacy. He came to Cheshire seeking and he got what he sought. It was more than just what he sought though. He was also able to link himself with Cheshire.

This time, it’s Cheshire’s turn to play it cool. It’s now his turn to fix what he broke.

He descended to the first floor where Lourdes was just about to close up. She was by the door, balancing herself to stare at what was outside.

“Lourdes,” Cheshire called.

Not a moment late, the fat innkeeper dashed to Cheshire’s side, asking him for what she could help with.

“It’s my friend,” Cheshire scratched his elbow, looking sheepish, “He left, you see and told me he would be back at night and it’s night and he’s still not back. So…”

“That’s what I’ve been staring outside at,” Lourdes replied, going forward then back to balance herself on one wheel, “He was lying on a tree just outside the fence over there,” Lourdes pointed to the door, “I swore he stayed there for hours and he just vanished.”

Cheshire floated by the door and peeked on the crack. There was definitely a tree just outside the fence that divided the town and the forest. It had an outstretched branch where he imagined Rocket was sitting on. He pictured the image vividly in a warm afternoon’s hue and he felt that he should go there immediately.

Vaporizing himself, he slipped through the crack of the door and floated to the tree where he materialized. He caressed the branch with his hand and longed to feel the texture of wood he could no longer comprehend—whether it was rough or smooth depended only on how undisturbed his hand ran on it.

He sat on the branch for a while as he got sentimental. He suddenly got the thinking ‘Where he was, I should be too’ going inside his head before he noticed something below. The ground wasn’t purely covered in grass. There were regions where the soil was so dry it became just sand and the grasses only grew in bunches where it was most humid.

He descended but didn’t make contact on the ground so as whatever was there stayed there. There was definitely some action that happened. There were footprints just at the base of the tree. Cheshire followed where it lead and found the sandiest area had messy lines that pointed deeper into the woods as if a body was dragged on it and left the trails.

Unfortunately, the mark only lead so far as the dry soil before vanishing on the grassy outskirts of the town, somewhere deep into the woods. Cheshire tried thinking of possible culprits but the only thing that went through his mind was Alice.

He was definitely heading for Salazen Grum. If Alice abducted Rocket then she would most likely take him to the red queen’s palace so that Rocket may be beheaded. But Cheshire was calm and worried at the same time. He was calm as there were no executions during night and worried that Alice might have taken an interest in him and is already opening him up.

Just by thinking about it, Cheshire’s pace in floating hastened as he was determined to rescue Rocket the soonest. Nobody deserves to undergo torture like they all have experienced. Although it cost them their consciousness, living obliviously as a native cat would have been better than suffering to become intelligent and having memories of how it all happened.

By Cheshire’s speed, he was already in the Tulgey woods when he spotted a familiar rabbit hopping in the distance.

*******

Mctwisp had just finished his routine in roaming all of Wonderland. It was dark and he was headed back to his burrow to finish what he left off from when the bell chimed. He wasted an enormous amount of neurotoxins in dulling the raccoon for the final phase of his experiment when he was suddenly interrupted by his alarm.

He was still bothered by what he heard from the hatter. Somehow, he couldn’t accept that the Cheshire cat would be sacrificing himself for all of them. It was a stupid idea. Just like his idea of convincing Cheshire to assassinate Alice. He did know that it would be impossible and he also didn’t know why he was pushing for it.

Perhaps it’s because he knows that if ever Alice capture’s Cheshire, she wouldn’t do anything to take his life. In fact, she’ll even fix his unstable radiators. And that’s the truly thing that’s important. He couldn’t bear to lose that coward even if he was never loved back.

A bomb, Mctwisp thought. From a coward to a hero, the feline managed to change in just a small span of time whilst he spent years in just trying to convince Cheshire to join his upcoming rebellion on the Frabjous day. And he still failed.

What was with the raccoon anyway? He certainly didn’t have any charm with his rude and insulting behavior. What was with Rocket that he didn’t have? Mctwisp no longer felt neutral about the raccoon. It was no longer just purpose with him and Rocket. Mctwisp now wants something from him.

The mist that never seemed to have left the Tulgey woods thickened as the night darkened. Mctwisp kept watch of the fog’s behavior—whether it went with the wind or was seemingly moving on its own. He had previous experiences with the Cheshire cat surprising him and he missed it.

The last time they saw each other was a few moons ago—before Cheshire left them to vanish elsewhere. Now the cat reappeared with a death wish much stronger than before. And the good part of it was he was going to take Alice with him.

Mctwisp shook his head. He won’t let that happen. He’ll just kill Alice first and when Alice is dead, Cheshire won’t need to detonate. He won’t have to die and they could be together like he wanted.

He hopped faster back to his burrow, even more determined to finish his project when just ahead of him the mist acted peculiarly. Without a doubt, he knew who it was. He stopped on his tracks and fiddled his fingers as he looked at the grey smoke swirling in the air like a small tornado.

“It’s been long… Chess,” Mctwisp greeted. His eyes couldn’t settle on the sentient vapor though there were still no eyes for him to see.

A smile emanated from the smoke—just the eyes and mouth—before Cheshire finally showed himself to Mctwisp. “Have I come at a bad time?” Cheshire asked.

“I thought you were never coming again though you are uncalled for,” Mctwisp replied instantly, not letting a moment of silence create awkwardness between them. He only wished that Cheshire did the same instead of floating and smiling there like an idiot before letting go of more words he could respond to.

“You are last stationed at Salazen Grum, no?” there was a hint of worry in Cheshire’s voice, “Please tell me you saw someone that’s not from here imprisoned there.”

Mctwisp swallowed. Cheshire was definitely referring to Rocket. “N-no…” he lied, “But there was a ship on the spaceport. Useless.”

Cheshire landed on the ground, placing both hands behind his neck. He paced back and forth, showing every bit of anxiety and worry about losing the raccoon. It was the first time he’s ever showed concern.

“You seemed bothered,” Mctwisp remarked, “I never saw you react like this before… much less descend on the ground.”

Cheshire ignored him. He couldn’t be still. “Are you sure there are no prisoners in the palace? Perhaps you heard of an upcoming execution?”

“I’m afraid we have a row of five prisoners getting beheaded tomorrow,” Mctwisp said, “But there is no description about them.”

“He could be there,” Cheshire took to the air once more and floated past Mctwisp.

“Alice had sensors all over the palace,” Mctwisp warned, “Especially made for sensing and capturing you.”

Cheshire didn’t seem like he was stopped. He wasn’t even reluctant.

Mctwisp chased after the feline. “You’ll get captured,” Mctwisp yelled as he couldn’t keep up with the cat’s pace. It was messing him up inside looking at Cheshire suddenly so concerned. Nothing he could say and did say stopped the cat from going to the palace. “Why?” Mctwisp yelled in the distance. That seemed to have stopped Cheshire from moving. He continued to yell, “Why is it that you care for him so much?”

But the cat only looked over his shoulder and apologized, nothing more he did.

“You won’t find him there!” Mctwisp shouted. “Come back… please…” he knelt on the ground ailed by his past with Cheshire.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Cheshire asked. He was back and standing in front of Mctwisp. He offered his hand to help the white rabbit up and reluctantly, the rabbit grabbed hold. Cheshire hoisted him up easily and when he was back on his feet, he didn’t seem to have the intention of parting their hands together.

Mctwisp took off his goggles with one hand, blurred on the inside from tears that had escaped his eyes. He looked at their paired hands before pulling it on his chest, embracing it.

“How come you’re not you with him?” Mctwisp asked in a low tone, “While you’re so you when you’re with me?”

Cheshire swallowed, slowly coaxing Mctwisp to let go of his hand. “I’m sorry, Nivens… I was wrong. I thought you wouldn’t give meaning to that one-time thing. I thought you were just one of those that I’ve had.”

“Am I not?” Mctwisp exhaled, “I am just one of those you just had. By now you know that I want more than just that. We’ve been together since we were taken from Halfworld but why is it so hard for you to love me?”

“I’m sorry…” Cheshire apologized.

“I don’t want your apology,” Mctwisp said the moment Cheshire finished, “I want you to tell me why it’s so hard for you to love me. Am I repulsive? You’ve had me, have you not?”

Cheshire finally withdrew his hand from Mctwisp’s grasp. “I’m not me when I’m with him…” he said, “I’m me when I’m with you but it’s actually the other way around. I am me when I am with him.”

“Liar,” Mctwisp gasped, “Are you telling me that you could never be yourself around me? I’ve been with you for years and I know who you are. Even as you got that smile, I know what you truly feel.”

Cheshire took one step back from Mctwisp, “No…you don’t. Nobody does.” He nodded left and right, “You are all true to yourselves. Your nature is that you show it whilst I do not. Frankly speaking, I could have had Tarrant remove the hinges that keep me smile but no matter how hideous I thought I looked, I kept it because it helped me shadow my nature.” Cheshire paused, looking into Mctwisp’s eyes, “I simply found someone who hides away in a façade as I do.”

“Chess…” Mctwisp began to tremble, “You’ve no reason to hide yourself,” he walked towards the cat but for every step of approach, Cheshire drew back. “I can take who you are.”

“So much,” Cheshire replied and looked on the ground, “That you’ll destroy me.”

Mctwisp leaped to embrace the blue feline. He encircled his arms around Cheshire’s back and buried his face on the cat’s chest. “How can you know if you hadn’t tried?” he looked up and stared into the pair of glowing turquoise in Cheshire’s eyes. Slowly, he bent up to kiss the feline but the moment their lips met, Cheshire became smoke, leaving a cloud figure from where he stood.

Mctwisp almost fell but Cheshire got him before he could meet the ground.

Cheshire’s face looked neutral disregarding the smile then his eyes just shifted to look so menacing.

“You have him…” Cheshire whispered ominously, “I smell him on your clothes.”

Mctwisp paced back, afraid of Cheshire who yet again showed another light of him.

“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mctwisp swallowed.

Cheshire vanished and reappeared behind Mctwisp so close their bodies touched. Cheshire nuzzled his nose on Mctwisp’s neck, inhaling deeply.

“Blood…” he trailed off. Using his hands against the rabbit’s shoulders, he turned the rabbit facing him. “Nivens, what did you do?”

“I had to do it…” Mctwisp sobbed. “I have to save you.”

Cheshire’s claws extended from between his fingers out of instinct. He didn’t mean for it to happen. It just came out, slightly scratching Mctwisp on the arms. When he realized he hurt someone again, he draw back and jumped to the air.

“You shouldn’t have done that…” Cheshire bit his lip before disappearing—a trail of vapor heading for Mctwisp’s burrow.


	12. Half Mad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Click the link for an image. If things go well, it's Rocket and Cheshire in their first Terran date! xD In human clothes.

<http://sanjiyu.deviantart.com/art/First-Terran-Date-682681504>

 

Whatever numbed Rocket’s pain wore off a few hours ago. He began to receive sensations since then. He felt the coldness of the metals that pierced halfway inside him. The fluids that he could only guess that sustained him seared through his veins like acid. One thing he was sure of that the white rabbit wasn’t very good with live subjects.

He failed to secure many things and relied on transporting liquids inside Rocket without minding the loss that constantly escaped through poor attachments. Rocket had been bleeding by dew drops since he was housed inside the glass cylinder. There was already a pool of blood by the very base of his area, soaking his feet.

He couldn’t see anything. When he woke up, everything was black all around. It couldn’t be just because it was dark. He knew when it was the environment or his vision. And he was temporarily blinded.

He quivered through the simplest control of his muscle. He could barely move his head without exerting maximum effort and he found that the only thing he could do was breathe. And so, he did. He counted every breath he pulled, hoping that it wouldn’t be his last. He couldn’t simply just go without extracting vengeance from the one who did this. He wanted to get back.

In his current state, however, it didn’t seem like it was about to happen.

Inside the cylindrical prison, he was completely dry—depraved of the air outside other than the one that’s piped in—which is why he felt surprised when a gust ran against the fur on his face. Rocket’s wheeze of breaths almost turned into hyperventilation.

“W-who’s there?” Rocket asked huskily. He opened his eyes and peered but he didn’t receive any image.

Seconds later, something much compact touched him, cupping his face to look up. No words were spoken. In the silence that dominated the secret lab, he could only hear breaths of a second party.

The weights Rocket carried inside his flesh lessened. And for every weight lost, there was an aftersound of wind swishing by. Eventually, the wires and tubes that supported his entire weight dropped him but someone caught him before he could meet the base of the cylindrical cage.

The sensation was familiar like his first night in the Tulgey woods. He complained so much that a companion offered him a ride on the back. This was it. Exactly like it. There were no ups and downs as if someone stepped on ground. Their pace was constant—a smooth glide in the air.

Grunting, Rocket asked, “I-is that you, s-smug-face?” he needn’t an answer when he fell to relax on Cheshire’s shoulder. How could he forget the cat’s scent which he enjoyed so much just recently?

***

Cheshire carried Rocket all the way back to the hatter’s tea party. He relied so much on Tarrant that he knew the hatter could save Rocket. He only felt so bad at himself that he couldn’t even talk to Rocket. Another promise was broken. And because of that, he didn’t want to face Rocket anymore.

The best he could do is to leave Rocket in the hands of the mad trio and retrieve his spaceship for their escape. He only hoped that by the time he detonates, his friends would be somewhere very far-off the planet.

The long tea-table was cleared in an instant when the trio saw Cheshire carrying a bloodied fellow on his back. The soonest Cheshire placed Rocket on the table the dormouse immediately scanned the patient and checked his vitals as the hatter went under the table to retrieve his tools.

The familiar, guilty-looking rabbit that followed behind Cheshire the whole time sat beside Thackery, shamefully watching the crowd.

“He’s lost quite a lot of blood,” Mallymkun climbed on top of Rocket. He placed his tiny hand just in front of Rocket’s nostrils just to check if he was breathing. “He’s getting weaker.” He remarked before climbing down and calling the hatter’s attention.

“I trust you could fix him,” Cheshire said, stealing a glance from Mctwisp.

The guilty rabbit fiddled his fingers, looking down and up again and again.

Tarrant approached, placing numerous herbs and liquids inside small corked bottles. “What seemed to have caused this _familiar_ anomaly?” he looked at Mctwisp and then back at the patient, “Mally?”

“He seemed to be poisoned, Hatter,” Mally showed him a needle with a sample of purplish liquid, “This came from one of his wounds in the arm.”

Tarrant took the needle and tried to analyze whatever the purple liquid was when the white rabbit joined in.

“Jabberwocky’s venom,” Mctwisp said, “It’s a neurotoxin… that I used to numb him.”

“I r’member one o’ those,” Thackery laughed, oblivious that it was the very source of his madness.

“How could you use something like that on him?” Mallymkun bursts, “Are you trying to repeat what happened to—”

“Mally,” Cheshire intercepted before the dormouse could finish, “We all know what Nivens had done… but please let’s just focus in saving Rocket.”

Mallymkun bit his lip before scurrying towards Tarrant.

The mad hatter gave Mallymkun some herbs to boil which the dormouse prepared in haste. Tarrant then began cleaning the wounds before stitching them closed.

“Is there anything more you’d like to tell us, Nivens?” Hatter said as he ran needles through Rocket’s cuts.

The rabbit nodded sheepishly, “I swear it’s the only thing I used on him.”

Amid the operation, Cheshire kept watch as his beloved clung to life unconsciously. He could only blame himself for what happened and he didn’t even need to assess why. He made promises and he broke them. It was only right that he get Rocket home the soonest.

He took advantage of the rabbit and the hatter’s argument to slowly fall back into the Tulgey woods to retrieve Rocket’s spacecraft when Mallymkun suddenly appeared to ask him.

“You’re leaving, Chess?” the dormouse scurried to the floating cat. “He’s the fellow you talked about, yes? Don’t you want to be here when he wakes up?”

Cheshire heaved in a deep breath and kept it there for some time before letting it out as a long sigh. “I’ve no more time to waste, Mally,” he said, “I’ll send the spacecraft here. Board it and take everyone with you.”

“I won’t stop you,” Mallymkun turned away, “But remember that you, leaving now, are not even the last thing your friend will remember when he wakes up.”

Cheshire looked at Rocket between a haze of reluctance and resolution. “Tell him…” Cheshire paused, “To keep the promise… and make him understand that I don’t want to be apart from him.”

“Promise?” Mallymkun repeated and just agreed knowing that whatever the promise was, was no longer a matter he could infiltrate. “I’ll do my best, Chess.”

Cheshire took off and he stopped before he could exit the gate. “By the way,” he said, “Be very patient with him… he’s could be quite a little… well a lot actually—”

“Don’t worry, Chess,” Mallymkun interjected with a chortle, “If I could take handling Mctwisp every day, I’m sure I could handle him.”

Cheshire nodded and took off once more. And once more, he stopped to add another reminder but was surprised when he couldn’t give any. Perhaps he just wanted to delay his plan—stretch the fastest seconds into minutes just to savor the last time he’s with Rocket.

***

The first thing Rocket heard was laughter amid muffled conversations. He listened to the sounds as if he was underwater the moment he regained consciousness. He felt much better compared to the last situation he remembered but still, he was in pain. Groaning, he tried getting up and managed to pull himself into a sitting position.

“He’s awake!” shouted a squeaky voice.

Rocket rubbed his eyes and let his blurry vision adjust to get a better view of where he was now. Three figures stared at him: a hare, a dormouse and a cyborg.

“Tea?” the hare offered a cup to Rocket with quivering hands.

It was only when Rocket reached in for the teacup had he realized that there was a needle pierced through his vein, supplying him with liquid. He followed it with his eyes to a small bag of dextrose half-empty.

He panicked for a second, almost ripping off the needle but he was informed immediately by the cyborg.

“It’s an antitoxin,” the cyborg said, “Don’t pull it off lest you become as mad as Thackery over here.” He curt nodded his head to the hare.

Rocket relaxed after knowing that it wasn’t harmful but took it off anyway. He ripped it out of his skin and jumped off the table. His legs were weak and he trembled as he landed on the ground but he still managed to get his balance. He became woozy just seconds after getting up but he felt as strong as before when it passed.

He had a lot of questions going on inside his mind about what happened and how he got here but he had no intention of having them answered. He was much more interested in finding the white rabbit that was responsible for his current state right now.

The cyborg approached Rocket, placing a hand on his back to assist him but the raccoon shook it off aggressively, growling at the helper.

“Don’t touch me!” Rocket snarled and scurried a few feet away from the cyborg. His head throbbed and he needed a moment to relax.

“It’s the neurotoxins,” the hatted cyborg explained, “If you don’t want to finish up that dextrose, you might as well drink this tea.” He walked to the table and poured a large amount in a teacup. He handed it to Rocket.

Rocket sniffed the tea first before turning his head away in disgust.

“It just smells bad but it tastes good,” said the dormouse from the table. “Just try it.”

Rocket swiped the tea from the cyborg’s hand and hesitated to drink. He took a small sip first and when the bitter taste spread inside his mouth, he spat it out immediately, dropping the teacup on the ground.

The cyborg rolled his eyes and went back to the table to fill another cup. He handed it to Rocket.

The raccoon obviously didn’t want to drink the tea but he forced himself to after hearing that neurotoxins were injected inside his system. With one big gulp, he finished the tea and spat out the remains from his mouth.

“Now, would you mind sitting with us?” the cyborg asked.

Rocket declined, “I can’t stay. I have to get going.”

“Oh but you needn’t go anywhere if you plan to return home,” the cyborg seated by the tallest chair at one end of the long table. He poured himself a cup of tea and relaxed.

“Just stay put, sir,” the dormouse added, “If you hate tea, we have kegs of ale—enough for waiting.”

Rocket walked to the table, taking a seat on one of the creaky chairs beside Thackery. “You’re gonna have to put more details, Fancy-hat, if you want me to understand what you’re all saying.”

The cyborg laughed, “Thank you for the compliment. I made this hat myself, you know and it took quite some time since I didn’t have my fashion sense back then.”

Rocket was puzzled and he was given no time to respond when the cyborg spoke again.

“Tarrant Hightopp,” he reached in for a handshake, “If you want tops on top of your head, hats hatted on top, I can make you one. Now wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Sure. I’ll ask you to make me a hat if ever I think of hiding stuff on top of my head,” Rocket replied sourly. “Now let me ask… where—” Rocket was cut short when he was reminded of details about his previous situation. Him getting here wasn’t a mystery at all. He was rescued by the feline he didn’t even think about since he woke up. Instead of asking what he was supposed to, he unconsciously changed it, “…where is Cheshire?”

“He’s off to receive a spaceship,” the little dormouse scuttled toward Rocket, “he’s sending it here which is why we must wait patiently.”

“Sending it?” Rocket repeated, “Don’t you mean bringing it?”

The dormouse and the cyborg looked at each other for who should speak to the raccoon and it was decided that it was the dormouse. “Chess told me that you _should_ keep your promise.”

Rocket lay back grumpily against the backrest of the chair, folding his arms in front of him and murmuring. “I’m just realizing what a douchebag he is for still going on about that lousy thing,” Rocket chortled sarcastically, “And he had it relayed by his tiny friend.”

The dormouse breathed, “Look, I don’t know what promise he made you keep—”

“Then you get no right to say anything about it,” Rocket interjected, “and even if you knew what the promise was you’d still have no say in this.” Rocket leaned on the table to get a face to face view with the dormouse, “Because that promise was between him and me.”

The dormouse stepped back, forming a stance but he was stopped by the hatter. “Mallymkun,” Tarrant looked at him.

Mallymkun calmed himself, thinking that it was for a friend. “Aye, you’re right but you could consider that what I’m doing too is a promise I’ve made for a friend.”

Rocket snorted. “Promises,” he said like it was the most absurd thing ever… which was, as of the moment, really the most absurd thing ever. “It’s just words you have to keep because someone made you to. It’s not that special of a thing it’s just a glorified request.”

“Think about it whatever you like,” Mallymkun replied, “But I’m going to keep my promise.”

“And what if you couldn’t?” Rocket returned.

“I will fulfill it,” Mallymkun retorted.

“Oh yeah, tough guy?” the raccoon challenged, “What if I don’t let you?”

Mallymkun paused and then looked at Rocket. He suddenly wondered how his friend had fallen to this very rude raccoon. “I would still do it,” Mallymkun said, “and if I fail, I’d just have to live bearing the guilt of a last request, unfulfilled.”

Rocket looked away.

Mallymkun continued, “Don’t you feel like you should keep your promise too?” he asked, “It’ll be the last thing you’ll have of him. No matter how bad the promise is, it’s still your last piece of him considering nothing will be left, not even a body to mourn on.”

“Wait a second,” Rocket sat straight up, “What the hell do you mean about that?”

“Chess loves you very much,”

“That I already know,” Rocket said proudly and then got back to the dormouse’s previous statement, “You’re talking as if he’s never coming back.”

“It’s apparent that he doesn’t know,” Mallymkun looked to the hatter. “Should we tell him?”

“Oh you’re telling me alright,” Rocket slammed his hands on the table, “Everything that cat’s never told me. Starting with what he’s about to do.”

It took less than an hour for Rocket to know everything there is to know about Cheshire’s plan. And every bit of it, Rocket found so stupid.

“I’m not letting that happen,” Rocket got up from the table, “Alice is the only one keeping you in here so the key here is to kill her.”

“It’s not that simple, we just told you,” Tarrant massaged his forehead.

“Oh really?” Rocket replied with sarcasm, “Because it sounds pretty simple to me. I get if you’re all cowards or plain idiots but I’m not like you. I have guts.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Mallymkun protested, “Just stay put and we could all get out of here alive just like Cheshire would have wanted.”

“I’m not sitting my ass off here while that cat is getting all heroic,” Rocket replied, “I’m leaving this planet with him whether he likes it or not.” He walked a few steps away and paused, “And if you’re all his friends, you would at least help him.” He continued to walk.

“He’ll vaporize you,” the hatter had his last statements, “The reason why he didn’t want any assistance was because he didn’t want to kill anyone else. If you step inside his radius, you’ll be gone in seconds.”

Rocket remained unconvinced despite everything they’ve told him. “He won’t detonate. I’ll diffuse him myself. And then I’ll kill your warden.”

Rocket headed for the Tulgey woods. By now, he already knew what paths to take and though he was unarmed, he was ready to march by the red queen’s gate in the middle of the day. As he strode through the forest, Nivens Mctwisp revealed himself from hiding behind a tree just ahead. He carried Rocket’s bazooka with some new modifications.

Rocket halted, staring at the white rabbit with intent to attack but he also played smart. This time, he won’t flee. He’ll figure out a way he could take his weapon from him.

“There is no need for that,” Mctwisp hopped towards Rocket and offered him his bazooka. “I’ve heard everything and I couldn’t agree with you more.”

Rocket cautiously took his weapon from the white rabbit and when no threat came after, he relaxed when he possessed his weapon.

“You know, this doesn’t make up to what you did to me,” Rocket said, “If I don’t need you now, I would shoot you.”

Mctwisp chortled sheepishly, fidgeting his fingers, “Nobody knows Wonderland more than I do. I’ll help you with everything I can. I have one question though, how are you going to infiltrate Alice’s defenses?”

Rocket strapped the bazooka on his back, “I’ve got a plan.”


	13. Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a rural blackout so I wasn't able to post. I could have written more chapters while the power was out but I had a writer's block. I got my head together now though so hopefully, there would be more chapters to come.

Rocket and Mctwisp had travelled far in the Tulgey Wood. They were almost at the rim of the forest, taking the safest route during day. Since everything else is active, they had to move with caution and double check the decisions they’ve made.

Rocket didn’t fully trust Mctwisp and because of that, they walked with a gap between them with the white rabbit leading the way ahead and the raccoon some distance behind. The wounds were still fresh from what the white rabbit had done and the contempt was much fresher. What made Rocket bit back was his sole purpose in retrieving his friend.

A bell chimed in the distance—back at the clockwork town and the white rabbit reacted alertly. His ears perked to the direction and thereafter he took a gold pocket watch to check the time. Rocket halted behind and waited for whatever Mctwisp had to say.

“The forest is shifting,” Mctwisp said and looked around him. “We must keep close or else we get separated and without me, you’ll be lost.”

Rocket hesitated but didn’t question the white rabbit’s suggestion. He followed obediently.

They climbed one of the dead trees in the forest and the moment they seated at a tree branch, the earth beneath them rumbled. The mist began to flow like violent waves ebbing back and forth yet maintained its fluid grace. Motion began and the sensation felt like that of a moving vehicle. It couldn’t be mistaken.

The landscape creaked and underneath them was a clear sound of turning clogs. Metal against metal, the screech of its turn was agonizing to hear. The way the land shifted resembled the movement of a titan long slumbering. It was over before Rocket could ask anything else.

Mctwisp jumped from the tree branch and patted dirt off the apron of his tunic. Thereafter he scanned the environment, checking his pocket watch once and then resumed to walk ahead.

Rocket jumped off the tree branch and followed behind, taking his gun in front of him for display. “So this happens often?” he asked.

Mctwisp looked over his shoulder for a quick moment before replying. “It does. None of us know why so don’t bother asking.”

“This is the fanciest prison I’ve ever been to,” Rocket remarked sarcastically, “and possibly the most difficult I’ll ever escape at.”

“Escaping is as simple as building a clock,” Mctwisp said, “However without materials, it would be impossible.”

“Did you really have to use a clock as an example?” Rocket returned.

“I had nothing else to compare. Clocks are quite abundant here.” Mctwisp stopped before numerous signs that split the path in outward directions. “Peculiar…” Mctwisp added.

Rocket’s ears perked up and then he looked at the signs. He endeavored to read them, “Marm-moreal?” he voiced out, “J-jabberwoah-cky?”

“It’s Marmoreal,” Mctwisp corrected, “and Jabberwocky. If you’re planning on taking one of the routes, choose Marmoreal.” The white rabbit took out his clock and lifted it above head as if it worked as a navigation map or so. He shook it when he failed to decipher whatever he was trying to understand and analyzed it once more.

Rocket waited patiently, placing his gun at rest on top of his shoulder. He tapped one foot to an imaginary beat and looked around all the funny signs. He was surprised when he read the mad tea party embarked on one of the signs and had a path that lead towards the place. Then he was reminded that the forest had just shifted and that his sense of direction was confused.

“Did we just get farther from where we’re headed?” Rocket asked impatiently.

“I’m afraid to say yes,” Mctwisp replied, “We’ve been set off course when the land changed. It’ll take us all day to arrive at Salazen Grum by now.”

Rocket kicked dirt on the ground. “Shoot!” he cursed. “Don’t you have anything we could ride on?”

Mctwisp nodded a displeasing no as he looked at his pocket watch.

Rocket became curious. “What are you looking at that clock for?” he walked toward Mctwisp and pulled the rabbit’s arm in his direction so he could look at the ticking device. The clock wasn’t just an ordinary clock. It was a navigation map as well.

“Alice made it for me so I wouldn’t lose my way,” Mctwisp said with a hint of pleasure and disgust in his voice. “Given that I’m the white rabbit, I’m supposed to always know where I am and where to go.”

Rocket didn’t care about what Mctwisp was saying. He just peered at the small clock, trying to understand how the map worked but he hadn’t the slightest idea.

“I don’t know what the map is saying,” Rocket admitted.

Mctwisp showed him. “This clock doesn’t follow real time,” he said, “It follows the Tulgey Wood. Underneath us, if you noticed earlier is giant clockwork. You could say that this whole forest is a handless clock.”

“I get it,” Rocket interjected, “Just skip to the part where you tell me how the clock works as a map.”

Mctwisp got back to the pocket watch, “The twelve numbers here are landmarks. This clock only possesses one hand and wherever that hand points at is the closest landmark from here.” He gestured to the area where the signs split.

Rocket stared at the one hand of the clock that pointed to the number one. He asked, “What’s the closest landmark then?”

“The Tweedles…” Mctwisp murmured as if an idea had just struck him. “The twins!” he said excitedly, “T-they have a workshop. Perhaps we could borrow a vehicle.”

“Well that’s settled then,” Rocket strapped his bazooka on his back, “Let’s go.”

Towards the path where the signs read ‘The Tweedles” Rocket and Mctwisp made their way.

***

The Tweedles are the taletellers of Wonderland. They kept the secrets Alice couldn’t keep track on. Supposedly, Alice recorded everything about the world she had created and kept it in a tome which the twins now possessed.

There were many tales about Alice and some of those tales were so great that the people no longer believed in them. However, Tweedle Dum, the taleteller of the past could confirm what was real and what was not. And Tweedle Dee, the taleteller of the future was bound to keep quiet forever until the right time.

At the end of the path in the Tulgey wood stood an old shack. It had a roof of galvanized steel, rustic from time and had rubber tires resting above to keep the wind from blowing it away. There was a small lot that confined piles of junk everywhere leaving only a small space where visitors could use to get in and out from the workshop.

There was the echo of metal clanging against each other as the sound of steel being sharpened dominated the area. Sparks of light casting shadows displayed by the door-less entrance of the shack and inside toiled a fat man welding iron.

He had a mask covering his face with a welder in one hand and an unfinished contraption before him. Not far away from where he worked toiled an identical fat man, hammering iron from another contraption.

Mctwisp had to yell by the doorway just to catch the attention of the twins.

“Tweedles!” Mctwisp knocked albeit his hand made no sound against the thick metal frame.

The twins looked at him at the same time and the one welding took his mask off. “Mctwisp,” he said and looked at his wrist watch, “It’s still not _that_ time of the day.” It was revealed that he had a deep Irish accent when he spoke a longer sentence and Rocket never realized that he’s the only that spoke differently from the rest. He noticed that the others had a _defect_ in pronouncing A’s and R’s. The first twin continued, “You’re gonna get yourself in trouble.”

The other one nodded but didn’t say anything. Before Mctwisp could add, the first twin had spoken again. “And who’s the lad with you?”

“Never mind who I am, big guy,” Rocket said, “We’re at the mercy of time here so I’m just gonna skip whitey’s chitchat and demand a vehicle we could use to get to _Slithery Grim_.”

“Salazen Grum,” Mctwisp corrected in a cough.

The first twin looked at Rocket with a puzzled face and then put his mask back on, proceeding to weld. “Not with that attitude, no.”

“Okay, I tried talking,” Rocket unstrapped his bazooka and aimed it at the first twin.

Mctwisp cut in between, pushing Rocket’s weapon aside but failed to disarm the raccoon. The first twin stopped welding and simply looked at Rocket’s direction before taking out a weapon of his own.

“Tough li’ fellow now, are we?” he said, “Are you challenging me?”

“It won’t be a challenge, believe me,” Rocket said, “You’d be down on your fat ass if you don’t give us what we came here for.”

The first twin chuckled, “Is that so, lad? Well, let us see who will be landing on his rump first.” He went at the back to a gigantic crate and pulled out a weapon of his own design. It was similar to a bazooka but with parts pulled from God knows where. It had an unstable technology which made it more difficult but judging by its appearance and the pattern, Rocket could tell that it had a limit whilst his bazooka does not.

Mctwisp cowered in a corner at the workshop, watching the duo that aimed guns directly in each other’s face. Rocket charged up his bazooka for an ion blast and the first twin activated his steamy weapon. Before both could release any projectiles though, the second twin stopped his brother from shooting.

The second twin placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder and simply looked at him with a nodding head. Thereafter, the first twin withdrew his gun and threw it back inside the crate. Mctwisp felt relieved while Rocket was confused.

The twins spent a little time on their own and both the rabbit and the raccoon listened to the faint, one-sided conversation since the first twin was the only one that could talk… so far as Rocket understood.

After a while, the twins faced Rocket and Mctwisp and invited them somewhere they needed to go.

“Mctwisp,” the first twin said, “Convince your friend to come with us first and then we’ll give you our fastest vehicle.”

“Can I not come with you?” Mctwisp asked.

“You should just wait here,” he said, “All of our resources, you could take and use.”

There was excitement in Mctwisp’s face but not enough to light him up completely.

“Only while your friend is with us,” the first twin added, “and I recommend you begin making weapons. You’re gonna need it.”

“You know I’m just right here,” Rocket joined in on the conversation. “And I prefer just stealing your vehicle than going with you.”

“Don’t be stubborn, lad,” the first twin was calm and no longer aggressive than just seconds ago and somehow his change of demeanor convinced Rocket to change his mind although he really was in a hurry to rescue the Cheshire cat.

He strapped his bazooka. “Fine.”

“Follow me.”


	14. The Caterpillar

At the other end of the old shack was another lot separated by a fence. At first, Rocket mistook it as another entrance to the Tulgey Wood because of the mist all around but he quickly realized that the greyish clouds weren’t mist. It was smoke. He couldn’t point out what the smell was like but it was certainly not something that irritated his sensitive nose. So far, he liked the scent.

He walked behind Tweedle Dum and on their very front walked Tweedle Dee. Many times, Rocket asked where they were going but his question was just met with silence. Eventually though, they arrived at the smokiest area where visibility was much lower compared to the Tulgey Wood at night.

The smoke parted and revealed a small figure of a worm sitting on top of a mushroom. He held a pipe in his hand connected by a long tube that connected on a small bottle which shape resembled like that of a potion container.

He looked at Rocket without much interest however when Tweedle Dee whispered something, the caterpillar became much more interested.

“Come forth,” the caterpillar said.

It was peculiar having something this small talk to him but then again, this place called Wonderland was the most peculiar of them all. Rocket accepted the fact that he would, time and time again, encounter much weirder things than what had preceded.

“So the last time wasn’t successful, either,” Absolem remarked and pulled in a deep breath with the pipe inside his mouth. He blew the smoke on Rocket.

Rocket waved the smoke off his face. “Watch where you blow that thing,” he coughed. “And what do you mean last time?”

“Tweedles…” Absolem called.

Tweedle Dum, the taleteller of the past stepped up first. “Your presence here isn’t the first time. What is happening right now had already happened in the past.”

Rocket’s fur bristled outward and he felt the sudden urge to protest but he gave Tweedle Dum a chance to explain much further.

“There was originally one universe back then however when the infinity stones were shattered, different realities were created hence the multiverse.”

“Hold up,” Rocket pushed his hands in front of him, “How many times has this been happening?”

“Only Alice knows,” Tweedle Dum replied, “When the infinity stones were shattered, she managed to get one fragment of the time gem. We are in another universe yet we are still beyond it. Between two universes, we exist in the middle and it is made possible by that infinity stone.”

Tweedle Dee joined in the conversation, first time Rocket heard him speak. “Since the time gem is but a small fragment of what it once was, it isn’t perfect. Its power is still immeasurable but incomplete. The loop Alice had created could be stopped.”

Tweedle Dum replaced, “And there is only a very small chance.”

Rocket massaged his temples, trying to understand what was going on. It couldn’t be that this had already happened and then again it could be since they were speaking of time.

“You never left your original universe,” Tweedle Dum said, “You are still there and then you are here.”

Tweedle Dee added, “Alice will be defeated as she had always been but after victory, you reign without the infinity stone in hand, this will happen again. You will be wiped out from all of their memories except mine and everything will repeat.”

“When will everything reset?” Rocket asked.

“After the Frabjous day,” the caterpillar answered.

“When the hell is that?” Rocket bombarded them with questions but the trio calmed Rocket, reassuring him that he will reign victorious as he had in the past.

“You cannot change what Alice wrote,” Tweedle Dum said, “You will defeat her no matter what you do.”

Rocket paced back and forth, “If everything is reset and it goes in her favor, then she isn’t really defeated.” Rocket stopped and then turned to look at the taleteller of the future—Tweedle Dee. “What happens to the smug cat? To Cheshire?”

“He will detonate, vaporizing Salazen Grum with him but Alice won’t be there.” Tweedle Dee continued, “You have loved countless times and this will be the first time I’m going to say this: don’t love him. If this time, you manage to retrieve the infinity stone and break the loop, you won’t see each other. Unlike you, we only exist in this past. You exist in the present while at the same time you exist with us. Your consciousness is just focusing here.”

Rocket didn’t fully grasp the concept but he got the idea. It worked like a dream somehow and he’s still with Groot and the others—sleeping but if this had happened multiple times before, then if he fails to retrieve the infinity stone, this would be repeated again without his awareness. After understanding that much, his primary worries wasn’t retrieving the infinity stone… it was saving Cheshire.

“You promised me a vehicle if I came with you,” Rocket’s tone was low, “Where is it?”

“If you go now, this might end up differently than the previous happenings. You could die before you defeat Alice.” Tweedle Dee convinced.

Rocket remained unfazed. “Keep your word. Give it to me!”

Tweedle Dee opened his mouth to protest but was stopped by Tweedle Dum. “Let’s just do as he say, brother. If he’s going out of bounds in the past then this might mean he will be able to stop this loop forever.”

“Make haste,” the caterpillar bade, “The Cheshire cat detonates at the Quillian day and that’s today.”

“Aye, Absolem,” the Tweedles replied in unison.


	15. Quillian Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made another fan art of Rocket and Cheshire! Just click the link to view the image.

<http://sanjiyu.deviantart.com/art/Just-Married-683992819>

 

Rocket and the twins rushed back to the workshop. Even though Rocket didn’t fully understand the alien terms, he was sure that it meant doom. There was no more time to question the details. Whatever he had in his mind could be resolved later after he rescued Cheshire.

Mctwisp was in the workshop, mania in his eyes as he worked on multiple weapons at the same time. He was stopped by the first twin—Tweedle Dum—as the fat man made his way to a lever attached on the wall.

“You’ll have to postpone that for now,” said the first twin. He gripped the lever tightly and pulled it down with a strong jut. The rusty lever screeched like nails on chalkboard. Rocket cringed. The floor beneath them grumbled and then moments later it parted in half. A stage ascended, carrying an old war jeep. Its colors long faded to a murky green with tires almost the size of the white rabbit and Rocket combined.

At the back of the jeep, seated a weapon—a machine gun loaded with belts of ammunition. It had a compartment at the back carrying steampunk-based offensive techs and though _ancient_ had it looked, it was still enough to earn the awe of the high-tech raccoon.

“Seat your arses now,” commanded Tweedle Dum to which his twin and Mctwisp followed obediently. Rocket, however, was still dumbfounded from seeing such an exotic _ship_. “Aren’t you getting in?” Tweedle Dum asked as he dangled from the door of the driver’s seat.

Rocket snapped out, scurrying to the seat beside the driver’s. “By any chance, would you let me veer this thing?”

Tweedle Dum snorted. “Grow your legs first, lad. If you could reach it, I’ll let you drive it.”

Rocket opened his mouth to protest but closed it when he realized that he couldn’t really reach in for the gas and the breaks. He wasn’t used to seeing a _ship_ that required the cooperation of one’s legs. A typical spacecraft was much simpler to maneuver but it had everything in hands’ reach whilst this simpler thing required something he couldn’t reach.

Rocket fastened his seatbelt and Tweedle Dum turned the old thing to life. The jeep growled a few times before it roared to life and they were set for Salazen Grum. Tweedle Dum stepped on the gas and the tires screeched rebelliously against the garage floor. They drove through the small gap of the doorway, smashing the side of the wall and crashed through the piles of junk in the workshop.

The jeep also served well as a tank with its stout and sturdy materials. Despite its feeble technology, it also seemed reliable had it possessed the speed of a modern land vehicle, much faster with the inventor himself driving.

They drove through miles away from Tulgey Wood and they were set in a landscape that Rocket felt so familiar with.

Dry sand, reddish and brown with enormous boulders atop towering plateaus—Rocket couldn’t mistake that he had traversed this path. They were heading straight for the palace in the gorge. Sand was set off in the air as the trail of their speeding jeep. The image of the castle in the distance grew larger by the fraction of minutes and Rocket hoped that he wouldn’t witness the entire palace turn into vapor.

“This had happened before,” Rocket told the first twin, “and will happen again if not done correctly?”

Tweedle Dum kept his eyes on the road, “Aye…”

“And only your twin will be able to remember all of this happening?”

“Vaguely,” Tweedle Dum said. “When Alice created this world, she couldn’t quite create the Oraculum.”

“The Oraculum?” Rocket repeated, “What’s that?”

“It’s a time map. Supposed she could put the fragment of the time gem to create the Oraculum but then nobody would reset the loop. So she thought of possessing that fragment of the time gem herself and exempt my twin from forgetting what’s about to happen. In a way, my twin and I are the Oraculum. I tell the past, he tells the future but only in the right time.”

“I still don’t understand how I got myself in this mess…” Rocket trailed off. He gazed at the castle, letting the wind blow against his fur. “Why me?”

Tweedle Dum shrugged… not sure of his answer. “Perhaps the first time this happened was _real_. Perhaps you were _really_ here and your presence in the past registered itself to repeat because of the time gem. And whenever the loop resets, your consciousness visits this time to repeat what happened.”

Rocket thought for a while, remembering the last thing he did to arrive at this mess. “So in other words, I really did get lost in the multiverse… once but how come I couldn’t remember it?”

“Perhaps because in this time, it’s just happening,” Tweedle Dum said, “and you can’t really remember the future, yes? You know, I have faith that this time we will _win_ for sure.” Tweedle Dum chortled, “My twin isn’t allowed to give off your identity until we’re already with you but the rules didn’t say that he couldn’t speak of what happened in the previous loops.”

Rocket shifted positions, “What did happen?”

“The same thing over and over again,” Tweedle Dum turned solemn, “Like I didn’t have to ask what happened in the previous resets because it’s just the same thing. Now, however, we’re actually venturing to rescue the Cheshire cat!” He broke out into laughter.

“Why, in the past what had happened?”

“We cannot tell you more than you already know,” Tweedle Dum said, “The Cheshire cat detonates that’s as far as you should know. The rest is up to you.”

“Screw it,” Rocket snarled, “If you want this loop to be different then you have to tell me what happens so I could change it.”

Tweedle Dum nodded, unconvinced. “The more one avoids the foretold future, the more it is likely to happen.”

***

Cheshire floated invisibly to the throne room of Crims palace. He scattered his vapor in the air so as it wouldn’t be obvious that he was there. The throne was occupied by the red queen—a rich monarch with stress under her eyes. It was dark, almost out of life as she dismissed the captured parties fated for execution.

Cheshire heeded Mctwisp’s warning that the palace had sensors so as much as possible, when he spots one, he materializes immediately. In the vacant space of the throne room however, there were no sensors that would detect his presence.

He made his way before the throne of the red queen and whispered to her.

“Iracabeth…” Cheshire called.

Iracabeth was alarmed, looking around her for the familiar vapor but she couldn’t see it. “Cheshire…” she whispered with a closed mouth. Alice kept an eye at her—a very close eye so she couldn’t drop character as the cruel red queen.

“There is a retrieved ship on your spaceport,” Cheshire said, “I’ve already fixed it. Ride it and get to the mad tea party. Our friends will be there. Take them to Marmoreal, get your sister and flee this infernal prison.”

Iracabeth pretended to have been by herself, keeping a closed mouth as she spoke like a ventriloquist. “Alice is keeping an eye on me… I can’t leave.”

“Just pretend you’re going somewhere else. You must get out of here… I’m going to vaporize this entire kingdom including Alice.”

Iracabeth breathed deeply but kept her poker face. “I’m scared…”

“Listen,” Cheshire’s voice emanated from one ear to the other, “We must keep Alice as oblivious as possible so she couldn’t flee. You remember flying modern spacecraft, yes? Once you board, head out to the Tulgey Wood as fast as you can. I’m setting my timer to T-minus ten minutes.”

Iracabeth got up. Underneath her enormous dress, her legs trembled but she managed to keep her face as deadpan as possible. Without saying a thing, she just walked out of the throne room, heading for the spaceport.

Behind the giant throne, Cheshire materialized and took out a timer from his pocket. It had outstretched wires that needed attachment to the radiators on his back. Tarrant had informed him that there was an easy way he could detonate the bomb infused with his power. And the mad hatter had handed him a remote control but Cheshire couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go out that fast.

When he attached the timer on his back, he lay back against the throne and gazed at the high ceiling. The timer displayed the last minutes of his life. The floor around him began to sublime just as the walls and everything made of solid matter. It didn’t happen instantly but it was still happening. He watched as the walls and floors sublime like dry ice.

There were buzzes outside the throne room and red lights flashing by the doorway. He could only guess that it were the sensors Alice had placed to detect him. With everything slowly turning to vapor, it detected its environment.

Cheshire sighed, lifting his arm. He watched it with much thought as his hand was vanishing into vapor. It was the very hand he intertwined with Rocket’s, it was the very hand he used to cup his beloved’s face and it was the hand where he thought his promise would make things okay.

He placed that hand on his chest and embraced it, curling into a ball as his entirety and everything around him slowly fades away.

***

They parked outside the main entrance of the palace. There were roars and grumbles inside—faint but agonizing to hear. Rocket readied his bazooka, unstrapping it from his back and taking the first steps to the entrance.

There was a force that stopped him albeit not completely. It seemed there was just a subtle push that stopped him on his tracks and then there was pain. It was only when Mctwisp had pointed out that Rocket was ‘burning’ had Rocket noticed that smoke was emanating from him.

When Rocket looked back, he noticed that everybody else was releasing smoke. The Tweedles looked at each other—to the areas where the surface of their skin was turning into vapor. They bled and the blood they shed turned into mist as well.

“Perhaps we’re already too late,” Tweedle Dum said, “Hop back in, Rocket.”

Rocket looked at his subliming hand where a mix of colors was taking with the wind—blackish from his fur mixing with crimson from his blood. Even in the state of disappearing and immense pain growing by the second, Rocket still felt the sensation of his hand intertwined with Cheshire’s. He closed it to a fist and strapped his bazooka on his back.

Everybody else was boarded in the jeep when a spacecraft hovered above them. Rocket recognized that it was the cheap ship he rented for ten-thousand units. By the pilot’s area seated a redheaded woman who spoke through the radio.

“Tweedles! Mctwisp!” she called, “Thing over there!” she referred to Rocket. Then a bright light emanated from the base of the ship. It engulfed the jeep and Rocket as well, pulling them up to an entrance from under the ship.

“We’ve only a few minutes left before the final explosion,” Iracabeth explained, “We must flee.”

The jeep took to the compartment of the ship first and then it was Rocket’s turn but the raccoon didn’t seem to have the intention of getting rescued. Taking his bazooka, he blasted the weapon where the light emanated from and he was released.

Hurrying on all fours, he didn’t leave any words to his rescuers.

Iracabeth didn’t wait for Rocket. When the raccoon acted on his own volition, she fled with the others, taking flight as fast as he could out from the hazard zone.

Rocket hurried. He didn’t know where Cheshire was and even if he did, he’d have no idea where to go so he relied solely on instinct. Where the strongest force was coming from, he traced. He followed the paths where it was most painful. Deeper into the castle things didn’t seem to just evaporate anymore. Some began to float while vaporizing midair. Gravity seemed to be a little tricky where Rocket headed and that’s how he knew he was in the right direction.

The walls crumbled, debris falling where Rocket was but it had fluid grace and was barely harmful. Rocket simply pushed it aside and some were vaporized before they could even make contact.

More and more of him was lost as he stayed longer and approached nearer the source. He still thinks it was a stupid idea to approach the hazard and he had no plan of what to do once he arrives at Cheshire but he did it anyway.

There was a long hall up ahead with velvet doors turning into red smoke. Once it vanished, Rocket saw what he came for.

The blue feline floated midair, curled into a ball as everything around him was rapidly evaporating. Rocket stopped where the velvet doors once were and watched with great happiness after seeing Cheshire once again. He forgot about the pain that was slowly eating up its way to vaporize him.

He just stood by the entrance. There was debris floating nearby and he pushed it inside the place that what once seemed to be a throne room. The chunk of rock evaporated instantly, leaving no trace. Then there was a pulse—a force similar to when Rocket was by the entrance of the palace. The radius had expanded. Rocket had to step back as the floor he stood on vanished immediately.

Rocket gritted his teeth, “Smug-face!” he yelled with all of his breath.

The blue feline’s ear twitched and he looked at Rocket’s direction. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” Cheshire shouted.

“I came here for you, you idiot!” Rocket retorted. “Have I told you how stupid this thing you’re doing is?”

There was another pulse but this time it went inward, pushing Rocket from behind and debris that got caught up inside seemed to have slowed down vaporizing.

“Not as stupid as you coming here.” Cheshire said lowly. They were far from each other but Rocket could see through those luminescent eyes of the feline.

An outward pulse came and the radius expanded once again.

Cheshire continued, “I’m glad I get to see you again but it’s still stupid. Get out of here now! I’ll try and contain the explosion as much as I can.”

“No!” Rocket said stubbornly and an inward pulse met him. “You made me promise so you could do this? I don’t think I’m fine with that, Smiley.”

Another inward pulse. Debris getting caught vaporized much slower.

“Why would you do something like this?” Rocket asked, “You know what, screw it. I don’t wanna know. I just want you to stop this right now!”

Cheshire looked down, “Please leave… even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. There isn’t much time you should at least get as far away from here as possible. I’ll try my best to minimize the radius of influence.”

“Not enough,” Rocket shouted. “I want you to stop it completely.”

Another inward pulse pushed Rocket from behind and it was all he was waiting for. Walking a few steps back, the raccoon dashed directly towards where everything was floating. He just dove through where beneath him was a fall that was enough to paint his remains everywhere but instead of descending rapidly, he got caught up in the most dangerous zone which also saved him from falling.

He floated almost where Cheshire was but they were still apart. It was like diving through acidic water. Every second was agony as every part of him felt like being skinned.

Cheshire was stationed where he was and he couldn’t move freely. Rocket could only float helplessly as he was tortured a very slow death. Regret was in the eyes of the feline and Rocket could see on his face how much he wanted to stop this but couldn’t.

“This is still much better,” Rocket grunted. “If I could go back to the entrance of the palace while this is happening, I would still find my way to you.”

Cheshire swallowed, engulfed in guilt to even speak a word.

Nearby debris floated beside Rocket and the raccoon kicked it to gain movement towards Cheshire. In a few moments they were finally with each other—lovers in doom of their final moments.

Cheshire couldn’t bear to look at Rocket but the raccoon forced him to by cupping the cat’s face with his injured hands. Rocket wasn’t even bleeding as before the blood could even drip, it already turns into vapor but the wounds are still there being slowly ate up by a force they can’t even see.

Rocket’s hand trembled against Cheshire’s face. God knows how much he was enduring right now.

“You know I—” Cheshire choked on his own breath. He swallowed and took a deep breath, “At the very least, I wish I could share the pain you’re feeling…”

Rocket chortled and kept a smiling façade. Perhaps he was happy and then he couldn’t be. “You think I came here just to spend my last moments with you?” Rocket laughed, “To die with you? I don’t think so. We _will_ survive this.”

Without further words, Rocket maneuvered his way behind Cheshire and unzipped the feline’s jumpsuit.

“Rocket… what—”

“You just said you wish you could share my pain, right?” Rocket traced the wound on Cheshire’s back with his claw, “Don’t get me wrong. I’d spare you from pain as much as I could but for now, bite something hard.”

Rocket scanned the radiators bulging from Cheshire’s back and noticed the one above the tail had a wire connecting somewhere. He pulled the wire and from Cheshire’s pocket came out a timer that had two minutes dwindling by the seconds.

He thought fast, no longer tampering with the mechanisms of the timer and went straight on tinkering with the wires. In the final minute, he managed to destabilize the bomb but everything still was getting vaporized.

“It’s the bomb…” Cheshire said, “I told Tarrant to modify it where I couldn’t stop it in the last minute. In that way, even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to.”

“You make the lousiest decisions,” Rocket said through gritted teeth. “Bite something hard.”  Using nothing else but his claws, he pulled the stitches off from Cheshire’s back and dug his claws deep, severing the healing tissues that almost closed up the wound.

Cheshire screamed painfully, his fur bristling in every direction. Blood soaked out from the wound, encasing Rocket’s hands and it too, vaporized but no longer as fast.

Cheshire’s claws retracted in and out from his hands and he groaned as he felt Rocket’s sharp claws literally dig inside his flesh. It wasn’t just like when they had a couple of days ago. This one wasn’t pleasurable anymore. It was agony.

“T-the bomb is just a small chip about three inches big,” Cheshire said through his groans, “It’s at the top of the vertebral column.”

“I see it,” Rocket analyzed the tech. To him it was a simple enough task destabilizing it. The chip rested above Cheshire’s spine with thin red wires attached to small spindles that bridged the radiators and the neuro-receptors that gave the feline the ability to manipulate his powers freely.

Cheshire grew weaker by the second from blood loss and the raccoon worked as fast as he can in cutting the wires that attached the bomb inside Cheshire.

“I got it out,” Rocket held the chip between his fingertips but everything seemed to have still been vaporizing.

“Quickly,” Cheshire lifted his hand and asked for the chip.

Rocket placed the bloody bomb on Cheshire’s hand. With great effort, Cheshire vaporized the chip. When the small device evaporated out of existence, everything stopped. And it also meant that Rocket and Cheshire could no longer float.

Beneath them was hundreds of feet of darkness but they needn’t see where they were going to fall to know that hard ground awaited them. Using what’s left of Cheshire’s strength, the feline held Rocket’s hand and pulled him to sit on top of him. He embraced Rocket from behind, wrapping his arms around Rocket’s waist before inducing his power to float.

Meters from meeting the ground, he was able to postpone the momentum they gained from falling and that’s when he finally lost consciousness. They met the ground hard but not as hard as it would have been.

In the distance, beyond loads of debris, a light flickered—giving Rocket a glimpse of what seemed to be an entrance to an underground laboratory. If there’s a way he could medically save Cheshire, it would be inside that lab. Although weak and injured himself, he forced himself to carry the unconscious feline inside his arms.

Whatever danger awaited them in the lab, Rocket was willing to face—a risk he is willing to take.


	16. Buried Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter's a little off. I've been writing it segment by segment (School is next week) so I think it's just not that good. I wrote half of chapter seventeen and I'll fix it. For now, this is all I've got. I promise I'll write better in the next chapter.

Midway through Cheshire’s explosion was all it took to vaporize most of the castle. The palace was left in ruins with its highest towers becoming frail and crumbling. The most damaged area, however, was the castle’s foundation which revealed an underground laboratory. When Cheshire almost exploded, the ground tanked all of his damage in his desperate attempt to try and contain the radius of influence to save Rocket and it reached Alice’s hideout.

From the crevice where they fell, Rocket carried Cheshire inside his arms to the flickering light that revealed a damaged hall. There was a thick metal door that closed the entrance. It was sealed by a sensor which could only be accessed through the recognition of a fingerprint—Alice’s fingerprint.

To Rocket’s advantage, the technology presented before him was actually one that he was familiar with. No modern technology could keep him contained. Even the finest of prisons with full security couldn’t keep him. This _simple_ thing was no hustle.

He looked around first for a clean area where he could place the bleeding cat. Cheshire was losing more and more blood and Rocket acted in haste. Taking out his bazooka, he shot the base of the sensor, destroying its metal exterior that hid its wires. From there on, he continued by pulling the wires, rearranging and reattaching them.

The sensor that glowed red all the time turned green and the thick metal door parted with a hiss, releasing smoke from the inside. The laboratory was a clean white with transparent walls that had fluorescent lamps behind them. There was a gurney by the side of the hall and Rocket didn’t hesitate to use it.

Because the transport material was too big for him, Rocket rode it like he pushed an oversized trolley, kicking his foot to gain movement.

The laboratory seemed much like a hospital—it had signs that told which hall goes where—only that it wasn’t a hospital and Rocket was getting frantic on where to go. The mattress of the gurney was turning red and he still couldn’t decide.

He came across head-turning signs like ‘Data Records’, ‘Patient Profiles’, ‘Future Plans’ and many more that induced his curiosity but there could be nothing else that could rival his concern in patching up the cat. When he came across a sign that read, ‘Cybernetics’ he took it. The section is surely to have medical supplies.

As far as Rocket was concerned, the laboratory was abandoned. He remembered the twins saying that in the previous resets when Cheshire successfully detonated, Alice wasn’t in Salazen Grum. The mad scientist probably fled before all of this happened.

Rocket occupied the dark room, punching the switch of the lights to open. There were cylindrical containers that housed cybernetics skeletons lined at the far right of the room. Some had labels and some did not. At the middle of the room was a column of operating table with straps of belts that held patients immobilized.

Rocket placed Cheshire on the operating bed and scanned the room for whatever he could use. Since it was a section built for cybernetics, there were medical supplies nearby. There was a small refrigerator nearby and Rocket was surprised when he opened it.

The supplies were exact. Meticulous for all that he’d encounter so far. Each blood bag had names on it—Tweedle Dum, Tweedle Dee, Nivens Mctwisp, Iracebeth, Mirana, Thackery Earwicket, Mallymkun, Cheshire—as if the blood bags present were solely for them. Cheshire did mention something about an unfinished experiment. Perhaps this was it—the supplies that were no longer used because of their resistance.

Rocket took the labeled blood bag with Cheshire’s name on it and immediately attached it to an IV. He was no medical expert but he treated tinkering with technology as a form of operation. Cheshire wasn’t fully flesh as Rocket was. In a way, they were part machine and Rocket knew how to handle machines.

When the risk of blood loss was sealed off, Rocket scoured the room once more for needle and thread. He came across the endoskeletons displayed by the edge of the room and some radiators similar to Cheshire’s back. Another statement came into memory—a statement Cheshire said himself—that the radiators on his back are unstable. He could take advantage of Cheshire’s unconsciousness to try and replace those unstable prototypes with Alice’s final tech and he didn’t see why not.

There were doubts at first but Rocket managed to overcome them. He just needed a blueprint which he knows where to find. He went to the unconscious feline and sealed the bleeding wounds before going out of the cybernetics section and straight to the ‘Patient Profiles’ section.

***

The section was a dark office. It was more of an observation room than a dark office. Inside, there was a room separated by a glass wall and the other side contained an empty operating chair. There was a long table before the glass wall that had scattered papers on the surface.

Rocket made his way cautiously to the table and randomly grabbed a paper in hand.

“Nivens Mctwisp: Full Body Modification” the paper read and Rocket skimmed through the page to see scribbles of red ink crossing out words too medical for his understanding.

He took another paper in hand and skimmed through it again. “Subject W-Feline-I.” Rocket’s attention was fully caught when he read something that might be related to the cat confined in the cybernetics section. He carefully read the paper.

The page seemed to be just one of many data collected about Cheshire. It recorded his behavior and previous ability. At the enumeration below there were boxes beside sentences. One read, “Asset One: Smile,” and had a check on the box. Below it was, “Asset Two: Flotation,” and a cross with red ink and following it below, “Asset Three: Evaporation,” had another cross mark.

There was another asset Rocket almost overlooked. It was Asset Four: Purification. The page ended with a tally of experimentations that was twenty and Rocket cringed at the number. Though it seemed less when counted, each of it was agony.

The paper he held wasn’t an updated version. It was when Cheshire was still a helpless test subject. What he needed was its updated version and hope that Alice kept her cybernetic plan inside the folder.

Rocket looked around the messy office and spotted a three-decked cabinet. He opened the bottom compartment that was labeled, “Subject W” and ran his fingers on the names of the folders. When he spotted Cheshire’s, he pulled it out and sat on the floor cross-legged.

The first page had the patient’s profile—a two by two picture at the top right corner with the patient’s name and origin.

_Subject (Former): 81Z18_

_Alias (Former): Blue_

_Subject: W-Feline-I_

_Alias: Cheshire_

_Origin: Halfworld_

_Associates: James von Hare, Buck Rabbit and Flash_

_Criminal Record: 20 counts of theft, 10 counts of escape from incarceration, 2 counts of escape from death sentence, 40 counts of arson, 5 counts of mercenary activity, **1 count of genocide** , 20 identified counts of abduction._

Rocket couldn’t care less about Cheshire’s criminal record albeit he couldn’t simply ignore the cat’s genocide. He was more concerned in discovering the cat’s former life in space. What he knew so far according to what Cheshire told him was that they were abducted from Halfworld. The cat didn’t tell him everything.

He took the chance in tediously analyzing the details so that any secret Cheshire kept, he’d surely be able to find out. Flipping to the next page, Rocket’s brows scrunched at the gruesome data collected.

There were mugshots of Cheshire with a label “Before”. Cheshire’s eyes hollowly gazed into the camera, pupils dilated. Dark shadows collected under his eyes making him look almost lifeless. He looked different and it took Rocket a while to realize that the reason was because Cheshire wasn’t smiling. Beside that mugshot was the same image only that this one had the label “After” and Cheshire was now smiling, still bloodied. There were more photos of Cheshire—bloodied and weak while sitting on the same operating chair present inside the room.

One had the description, “Prototype One: Shock Induction” and below it was a photo of the cat attached to a giant machine with metallic rods sticking out of it. Cheshire’s fur exploded outwards, with his face smiling despite the agony.

Another had the feline suspended midair with nothing but wires sticking out from his flesh. It labeled, “Prototype Two: Fluid Transport”.

The third prototype had Cheshire inside a cylindrical glass cage—something similar to where Mctwisp contained Rocket—and was labeled, “Prototype Three: Osmotic Adaptation”.

There were twenty prototypes all in all with each much more gruesome and horrifying than what had preceded. Rocket’s tough nature crumbled especially that he was scanning through the photos of a dear one. The twentieth prototype was what Cheshire possessed now: Cybernetic Radiators.

After scanning through the profile, Rocket didn’t find Alice’s plan. It was though as if he was just tortured having seen what Cheshire had gone through. It wasn’t just Cheshire, Rocket thought. It was everybody else too.

He left the folder lying on the floor and thought about where he would most likely find the blueprints on how to detach and reattach Cheshire’s stable radiators. He remembered. There was a section about Alice’s future plans. If he’s going to find the blueprints, he’d most likely find it there.

***

There was a dark hall that split into two separate paths while on the way to the ‘Future Plans’ section. The lights ceased to function on both paths which left darkness ominously looming towards where the light reached. Rocket didn’t bother to discover and just went straight ahead to another office.

He punched the lights on and it revealed a vast room with a computer system. The setting always seemed to be like that in the mid of a panic. Papers were on the floor, on top of tables almost everywhere. There were spilled mugs—lots of mugs as if Alice wasn’t the only one working inside the laboratory.

Rocket sat before the computer system and typed in ‘Subject W-Feline-I’. The computer loaded and then revealed the blueprints for what Cheshire was supposed to be. Displayed in the large screen was a list of complete assets including asset four. The materials needed all lay inside the cybernetics section inside a crate with Cheshire’s name pasted on it.

Rocket printed a digital copy of the procedure but didn’t quite know where the printer was. He heard printing nearby. He just couldn’t point out where. He printed another copy and listened keenly to where the sound emanated from.

The top left corner of the room.

There was an open door just beside where the printer was. There were no lights so whatever was inside remained invisible. Rocket simply retrieved the printed copy when he noticed that one of the papers lying on the floor was smeared with blood.

He folded the copy and tucked it inside one of his pockets. Taking out his bazooka, he went for the dark door. He widened the gap of the door with the mouth of his weapon, staying low. There was a faint sound of munching, bones snapping and flesh getting torn.

Just from the door, Rocket witnessed a gigantic silhouette—down on all fours tearing something with its sharp jaws. Its teeth glinted with the faintest reflection of light, emphasizing its serration. It had a long tail like that of a rat’s and it swayed impulsively, knocking down nearby tables. It grunted as it fed and it didn’t seem to notice Rocket’s presence.

The raccoon backtracked carefully and stepped to the printer. When he was out of sight, he traveled through the halls and back to the cybernetics section.


	17. The White Palace

In the garden of white roses, Mirana of Marmoreal stared wistfully into the horizon where beyond lay the kingdom of her sister. She had no news of the red queen for they were _supposed_ to be at war and therefore have no communication. Many times, she sneaked letters carried by the white rabbit just to have an update of how her sister was handling things.

She ran her hand against the smooth marble railing that separated her from the maze of her white rose bushes. There lay a telescope just beside her but even it cannot reach the tallest tower of Salazen Grum.

The whiteness of Marmoreal symbolized peace and tranquility and Mirana was supposed to be the epitome of it. However… peace and tranquility are what Wonderland lacks. Though she wore white and acted as its beholder, she was slowly turning mad. Because of her imprisonment for so long, she started to ponder over what could have been if she and her sister were just abducted by Thanos. She was wishfully thinking that it would have been better if Thanos had taken them. And then there was the option of death. If Thanos and Alice were equals in torment, death would always be the better option.

The wind blew past Mirana’s face, shaking the bushes to an unsynchronized chorus. There was a speck of light that spat in the horizon and it seemed to have grown by the second. Striding before the telescope, she tilted her head to gape in the eyepiece of the device and glimpsed at a modern spacecraft. She was relieved when she saw her sister, Iracebeth, piloting the ship.

The gigantic spaceship hovered before the courtyard, sending waves of air that rattled the calm environment. Slowly, it landed. Mirana quickly headed out for the courtyard.

The doors of the spaceship parted open and a damaged war jeep carrying much more damaged people unloaded. Tweedle Dum drove the jeep outside the spaceship before the rickety vehicle went out of life. He kicked the door open, limping off to the white platform of the courtyard which he tainted red.

The same happened with Tweedle Dee and Mctwisp—both party weakly got out of the jeep injured and bleeding. If they were damaged this much, then they could only imagine Rocket’s state.

Iracebeth helped the twins and Mctwisp as much as her strength allowed her. She wasn’t very strong, not physically, no but she had a strong wit. Now, however, wasn’t the appropriate time for it.

Mctwisp placed his hand on the tire of the jeep, pulling his weight up as he leaned on it to keep himself standing. Tweedle Dum was crawling on the floor, endeavoring to stand up but failed time and time again. He only ended up painting the marble floor with his dripping blood.

Mirana finally arrived at the scenario and at once, she shouted to alarm her palace guards to take the injured into the infirmary.

“Sister…” Mirana looked at Iracebeth for a second before dashing to embrace her. “It’s been so long…”

“We could be free now…” Iracebeth said, “W-we have this… we could finally run away.”

Tweedle Dum interjected. “Forgive me, my queens,” he groaned, “But freedom doesn’t simply come with this ship.”

Mirana strode towards Tweedle Dum with fluid grace and helped the injured man up his feet. “We need only get out of this planet,” she said, “and after that, we wouldn’t have to worry about Alice capturing us.”

Tweedle Dum opened his mouth to explain but was cut off when Tweedle Dee had spoken. “With Alice possessing the fraction of an infinity gem, we wouldn’t be able to go anywhere.”

“Dee!” Tweedle Dum shouted and fell down on his knee after mustering great effort. “You’re not supposed to—”

“Fuck it,” Tweedle Dee cut off, “The bloody raccoon’s already broken the loop. It means we’re in for a different course and I’m going to do as much as I can to help. No more staying quiet.”

Tweedle Dum bit back his words after his brother’s explanation. He simply swallowed and looked away still unsure if his brother’s decision would be their salvation or their doom.

“Your highnesses,” Tweedle Dee addressed, “Please call in the mad trio and my brother and I shall explain everything you need to know about this prison. It’s time you all learn that this isn’t an ordinary prison we are in.”

The palace guards Mirana had called finally arrived with folded stretchers on wheels. While they put the Tweedles in different gurneys, she commanded one of her servants to summon the mad trio.

While Nivens Mctwisp remained by the side of the tire, shoulder against it to support his weight, he could only think about Cheshire’s death. He recalled how Rocket went to the extremes—shooting his very salvation just to attempt and rescue Cheshire without second thoughts while he… simply ran away. He remembered his last conversation with Cheshire. Back then, he felt so annoyed and hurt with the cat suddenly falling in love with a raccoon he’s only met for less than forty-eight hours. He loathed Cheshire for his impulsive decision—choosing someone he just met over someone he had been with for years. Mctwisp also hated Rocket because he didn’t know what the raccoon did to capture the heart of his lover in such a small time whilst he spent years and still failed.

It wasn’t anger anymore. Perhaps there was a bit of jealousy but mostly, what Mctwisp felt was shame. He was embarrassed by his own thought that he was a rival of Rocket. With Rocket’s sacrifice, Mctwisp didn’t even stand as a competitor. He was merely a watcher.

And now that he was bleeding from the very wounds he got from Cheshire’s death, he was haunted by the guilt more than the pain. He dared proclaim his love to someone he couldn’t even give up his life to. In the end, Cheshire was right as he had always been.

He was right for not loving Mctwisp.

***

Inside the infirmary, Mctwisp hollowly gazed at his bandaged arm. There was a spot of blood from over-absorption and he fiddled with it, pressing to see if it would soak the gauze. While the Tweedles were busy replenishing their energy by eating, he hadn’t the slightest appetite to consume the offered food before him.

The red queen sat silently beside Mctwisp’s bed not even looking at his direction. Only the faint arguing of the Tweedles kept the silence broken. They argued about who had more of each other’s dish as if the serving wasn’t equal. Mctwisp found himself listening to the twins as he had nothing else to do.

“Brother, I’m sure you’ve got more porridge than I have,” said Tweedle Dum.

“You’ve got a larger loaf of bread, brother,” replied Tweedle Dee.

Iracebeth gave out a long sigh and Mctwisp’s ear fervently twitched to the sound.

“Is there something bothering you, your highness?” Mctwisp asked.

Iracebeth turned to Mctwisp, the corner of her mouth rising up to a smile. “It’s funny… all of this,” she said, “Even when Alice isn’t looking, you address me as royalty.”

“I just got used to it is all,” Mctwisp fidgeted his fingers. “Is that what’s bothering you?”

The corner of Iracebeth’s mouth dropped and she smoothed the creases of Mctwisp’s blanket as she had nothing else to do. She asked a question in random, “Who were you before you became Nivens Mctwisp?”

Mctwisp swallowed and was taken aback by the question. His heart trembled underneath his ribcage as if mentioning his former name would be his doom. Even when Alice wasn’t watching, he felt afraid to call who he was before.

“Alice isn’t watching,” Iracebeth said when Mctwisp became silent. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“I-I was…” Mctwisp paused and stalled to recall his former name as much as he could. “Before Alice took us here, I travelled the space with Flash, James von Hare and…” Mctwisp swallowed, “…Blue,” he continued, “I used to be Buck but I prefer Mctwisp now.”

“Do you miss who you used to be?” Iracebeth asked again and she answered before Mctwisp could even open his mouth. “Of course you don’t. Alice conditioned us to cower just by thinking of our former names.”

Mctwisp swallowed. “A little,” he adjusted his position on the bed.

“Who was that fellow that blasted the ship earlier?”

Mctwisp swallowed again and shook his head as if dismissing a thought. “It doesn’t matter. The dead must not be spoken of. Let’s just hope they ended up in a good place wherever that may be.”

Iracebeth placed a hand behind Mctwisp’s back and before she could say anything else, Mirana arrived at the infirmary with Tarrant Hightopp, Thackery Earwicket and Mallymkun—the mad trio. By that time, the Tweedles were already licking their plates, unsatisfied of their servings.

“That was fast, brother,” Tweedle Dee said, “I want to have seconds with the porridge.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Tweedle Dum replied, “But since they’re all here, I guess we can begin devising a plan.”

The mad trio made their way past Mctwisp’s bed to retrieve chairs. The white rabbit couldn’t help but avert his gaze from the mad hatter that stared deep into his soul. Even in a different setting, he wasn’t happy to see Mctwisp. Even when Mctwisp was injured, he could tell that the hatter prayed for something more than just injury to befall him.

Palace guards marched inside the infirmary, stationing behind the Tweedles’ beds and Mctwisp’s. The obedient robots placed their beds closely beside each other and grabbed chairs for the queens. Thereafter, they silently marched out.

The Wonderland prisoners were now arranged in a circle with the three bedridden beside each other, the mad trio in front of them and the red and white queen across each other.

The Tweedles sat up and leaned against the backrest of their beds, both moving in perfect synchrony. Even as they spoke, they cut each other off, politely arguing who speaks first.

“After you, brother,” they both said in unison and then Tweedle Dee continued, “After you, brother.”

“Brother, after you,” Tweedle Dum insisted.

The group stared at them confused and it was until the impatient dormouse cut off had the twins finally decided who gets to speak first.

Tweedle Dum enumerated the past which everybody else already knew but he gave some information Alice forbade him to share.

“We are all contained in a _chronosphere_ ,” Tweedle Dum said, “and after the Frabjous day, everything will reset from the Gribling day—earlier.”

“That’s nonsense!” Mallymkun scurried on Tweedle Dum’s bed, stationing on the fat man’s bent knee. “Even with Alice’s technology, she cannot create something that could tamper with the fabric of time!”

Tweedle Dum scooped Mallymkun from his knee, “Calm yourself, little one,” he elevated Mallymkun to face him. “It’s very possible.”

Tarrant joined in the conversation, “For that to be possible then she has to possess—”

“An infinity gem!” Thackery threw his hands up in the air laughing, “Alice showed it to me once.”

The group discussion became dead quiet for a second before each and every one of them threw themselves at the March hare, asking questions about where Alice kept the infinity gem. The calm discussion they had earlier ago became amess as everybody crowded in on Thackery who cowered helplessly on his stool.

All were frantic except for the white rabbit that calmly rested on his bed. He pulled in a deep breath and shouted, “Leave him be!”

All eyes turned to look at him and then they all withdrew, though traces of anxiety remained in their faces. They all knew what an infinity gem was—its power. After all, they were seekers of the infinity gems before Alice took them all. They were fanatics—madmen of the universe that could burn down entire planets for their search of these powerful stones.

They _were_. They used to be. After Alice took them in, she cleansed them of their obsession by torment and they lost all their drive, all their bloodlust, their selfishness and cruelty. Because of mutual suffering, they became close with each other and the years made them friends.

When they were all quiet, Mctwisp weakly hopped out of his bed and made his way to Thackery. The poor hare trembled. For he was mad, he didn’t quite fully comprehend what was happening and thought everybody else was turning against him. With feeble steps, Mctwisp approached and knelt before Thackery.

“Oh no… there’s no more tea… I’ve no tea to give ya!” he pointed his finger at Mctwisp.

The white rabbit gently grabbed Thackery’s finger and coaxed it to drop. There could be nothing in the universe that could scale the guilt and regret he felt. If they remain Alice’s prisoners, he wants himself to go back to the time when he accused Thackery. He’ll take full retribution and be the mad one.

“Thackery—” Mctwisp swallowed, “No… James, I’m so sorry.”

Thackery’s ear twitched to the sound of his name, “J-james?” he repeated as if a memory had just came into mind but he shook it off immediately and once again acted mad. “No James ‘ere, white bunny… heh-heh-heh,” he laughed, “Y’should invite James for tea!” The impulse to throw was there but he had nothing to throw.

The rest of the group stared at them with eyes most resenting from the hatter.

“James von Hare,” Mctwisp said, “He was a fine lad—mad as a March hare even before. He liked blowing up stuff and laughing rebelliously in the mid of destruction.”

Thackery’s laugh settled and for a moment he looked at Mctwisp in the eyes. It was James von Hare looking at Buck Rabbit but he was gone in an instant. “The infinity gem, she keeps inside herself.” He laughed manically—a sign that Thackery came back. “Anyone got tea?” he yelled.

Mctwisp swallowed and embraced the March hare. “Thank you, James,” he said.

As he got back to his bed, Mallymkun followed him. “Mctwisp…” the little dormouse said, “Was it James? How was he?”

Mctwisp nodded, “Aye, Flash… he looked sad.”

There was a moment of silence in the group before they once again proceeded.

“So the infinity gem is inside Alice…” Mirana began.

“That couldn’t be,” Tarrant said, “If the infinity gem is inside Alice, then she would have lost it when Cheshire vaporized Salazen Grum.”

Mallymkun seconded, “Then it means the _chronosphere_ is already broken. We’re already free.”

“I hate you get your hopes down,” Tweedle Dee retorted, “However as I am about to tell you, Alice is still alive.”

Iracebeth bit her fist, recalling something she was able to glimpse at inside Alice’s lab. “I once sent in one of my cards to steal any intelligence from Alice,” she confessed, “It was for a chance to assassinate her however I got Cheshire’s profile of all things.”

“Where are you going with this, sister?” Mirana asked.

Iracebeth continued, “What I’m trying to say is Alice wouldn’t survive Cheshire’s explosion. In Cheshire’s profile, she wrote that no any type of matter could withstand Cheshire’s vaporization. If Cheshire successfully detonated, then no shield could save Alice.”

“But Alice isn’t there,” Tweedle Dee said, “In the previous resets, the Cheshire cat always exploded, vaporizing Salazen Grum with him. However Alice always fled the scenario.”

“So Cheshire’s sacrifice was in vain?” Mallymkun trailed off.

“It always had been,” Tweedle Dee replied, “Only that in the previous resets, Cheshire died alone. Rocket fights the last battle with Alice in the Frabjous day and defeats her.”

“If that’s so, then how come we are still prisoners?” Mirana questioned.

“Because he always fails to retrieve the infinity gem out of Alice’s possession,” Tweedle Dum answered, “Since our champion has died with Cheshire, we will fight on the Frabjous day and retrieve the infinity gem ourselves. Only then will the _chronosphere_ be broken.”

“Why didn’t you tell us this before?” Tarrant said monotonously, “We could have avoided a vain sacrifice. Now Cheshire is dead!”

“It’s partly my fault as well,” Iracebeth murmured, “I should have known that Alice wasn’t inside her lab anymore and I should have at least told Cheshire about that.”

“Calm down, the both of you,” Mallymkun squeaked, “Blaming ourselves won’t get us anywhere. Let us just not let their sacrifices be in vain.”

“Don’t you see, Mallymkun?” Tarrant’s voice cracked, “His sacrifice was in vain.”

“Perhaps not,” Iracebeth said, “One of my cards reported to me that Alice was creating abominations in her lab—she knew all along that we would turn against her and raised her chances of winning. Cheshire’s explosion vaporized all of those creatures.”

Tarrant sat back. “So we fight?” he covered his mouth with his hand, staring into space and then he turned to Mctwisp, “I bet you like that.” He said sarcastically.

Mctwisp said nothing.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Mirana interjected, “The fight will be between Alice and us not between you too. For now, let’s prepare for war. Mctwisp,” she called.

Mctwisp turned, looking over the white queen, “After you heal, I want you to recruit as many cyborgs as you can. We cannot trust full robots. Alice might turn them against us.”

“Aye, my queen,” Mctwisp bowed his head.

“Tweedles,” she called, “I will send you the coordinates of an abandoned lab. I lost many fine rebels in driving Alice away from it. Use the resources from it carefully.”

The Tweedles nodded.

“Tarrant and Mallymkun, you will venture with me and my sister out of the border. There might be some people willing to help us.”

“What about Thackery, sister?” Iracebeth asked.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Mctwisp volunteered, “I will only be recruiting. It’s no difficult task.”

“Very well then,” Mirana stood up from her chair, “If this had been happening countlessly, then now is the time that we _will_ be free.”


	18. Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confessions are supposed to be romantic...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made another art! xD Honestly, I'm too lazy to paint the scenarios happening in the story so the fan arts I make are kinda not related to the plot flow. I'm still practicing drawing space stuff and sci-fi labs so until I get good at it, I'll keep on making random Cheshire x Rocket arts.
> 
> Oh and I find the Marvel's Rocket and Groot art style much simpler to draw so I'm sticking with that.

<http://www.deviantart.com/art/Space-Nap-685351880>

 

When Rocket returned to the cybernetics section, he bombarded the door with crates and tables despite it being a parting metal door. Cheshire was still unconscious, almost halfway finished with the IV. Rocket only took a second to gaze at the cat before searching for the crate that had Cheshire’s name labeled on it.

It was underneath the cylindrical containers that housed cybernetics skeletons. He pulled it out and opened the crate to view three, perfect-looking radiators. There was a small chest secured by a passcode. It displayed temperature—negative fifteen degrees Celsius—in a green glow at the top right corner from the lock. There was a note attached on top of it.

 _“X-gene product 2”_ the note read.

Rocket tinkered with the lock for a good minute and that’s all it took for him to surpass its codes. The small chest automatically opened, releasing frosty mists before the top lid lifted up to reveal packets of blackish fluids. Rocket wasn’t quite sure what it was so he took the printed copy of the procedure and skimmed through the page.

Apparently, the fluids were supposed to run inside the tubes of the radiators. There were two packets Rocket could only guess would be responsible for Cheshire’s assets.

Rocket closed the small chest and set it inside the trunk. He took the radiators inside his hands and at the same time looked at the printed copy of the procedure. He spent minutes rereading the words too medical for his understanding. When none of the terms registered inside his head, he realized that he couldn’t perform the procedure himself. He felt confident that he’d know how to perform it due to the involvement of machinery but it was still on the medical level at most.

He searched the room again for anything he could use to carry the materials and found a sling-bag lying on the table. Since its built was for an average Terran, Rocket had to adjust the straps so the bag would fit him nicely.

He placed the materials inside and scoured the room once again. He admitted that Alice owned some fine tech. There were class-S resources available in the cybernetics section alone—resources Nova Corp law forbade selling unlicensed. He made the most of his time as he waited for Cheshire to wake up.

There is _something_ outside there that they would definitely face and they have to be ready for it. Rocket took out his bazooka—edges chipped off from the exposure to vaporization earlier. He was lucky that only the exterior was damaged or else it would cease to function. Being himself, he couldn’t care much about his current state. He stopped bleeding moments ago when the blood had clotted on his wounds. And he didn’t even bother cleaning them. He was much more concerned about fixing and upgrading his weapon.

He dismembered his bazooka and laid the pieces before him. He pulled out numerous crates labeled with the names he was familiar with. “Nivens Mctwisp” one crate was labeled and Rocket was grinning like an idiot as he pulled it open. He expected something he could use to upgrade the offence of his weapon but found nothing. Instead, the crate had materials for navigation.

It wasn’t completely useless. Rocket had the idea of creating a GPS based map given if the planet had satellites. Hacking into the system would be no problem for him. He pulled out another crate with “Thackery Earwicket” as the label. The crate contained something much more built for war than Mctwisp’s crate.

As Rocket gets to discover the crates in the cybernetics section, he also got to thinking why these plans were suddenly cancelled. He didn’t wish for the experimentation to befall the prisoners. He knew exactly how it was to be experimented on but if the prisoners actually allowed Alice to do her final modifications, then they would have a chance of overthrowing her. Why stop at clockwork technology? Moreover, why would Alice modify them as if to create living weapons? If her sole purpose is to bring a fictional realm into existence, then surely there is no need for advanced weaponry.

From the operating bed, the unconscious Cheshire groaned—now past halfway in finishing the intravenous. Rocket simply batted an eye to see if Cheshire would get up. His focus was more on upgrading his bazooka.

The cat seemed conscious had he opened his eyes and looked around the room. He tilted his head left and right and stopped at the direction where he saw Rocket tinkering with junk.

“Feeling better... Blue?” Rocket paused a moment before saying Cheshire’s former name. He let his question register inside the cat’s head, keenly waiting for the feline’s reaction.

Cheshire’s eyes widened and he endeavored to sit up but failed.

“Just relax,” Rocket said as he twiddled some wires. “Finish that blood packet first before you think of getting up okay… _Blue_?”

“Stop calling me that.” Cheshire’s voice was hoarse and faint but Rocket still understood that the cat wasn’t very happy to be called that.

Rocket paused whatever he was doing as he sighed and then got back to working. “You’re the only one that could bug me… a lot.”

“I’m bugging you?” Cheshire returned, “Who was calling who names just now?” he forced to get up on his forearms.

“I told you before,” Rocket kept his eyes on the junk he worked on rather than Cheshire. “I don’t give a damn about anybody. And you’re bugging me because somehow you made me give a damn about you.”

Cheshire was confused and he didn’t know what tone to use. His question came out in a squeak. “Is… that a good thing?”

Rocket dropped whatever he was holding and placed his hands on his laps. “Well considering it almost got us killed, no,” Rocket said eloquently with perfect sarcasm. He continued, “But that’s not the part that bugs me… what bugs me is that I _want_ to know everything about you and somehow I feel mad when I find out you’re lying to me.”

“Rocket—”

“It’s bugging me that I _want_ to know even the most insignificant details about you,” Rocket didn’t give Cheshire a chance to speak. “You’re getting to me so deep and I have no fricking idea why,” Rocket said through gritted teeth. And then he calmed down. “It couldn’t be because of the _thing_ we did, could it?” he asked monotonously.

Cheshire digested everything Rocket told him and he didn’t know whether to smile (for real) or frown (figuratively). He was flattered that the raccoon was confessing to him albeit he wasn’t sure if confession was the proper term. After hearing Rocket’s question, he snapped back to reality, answering it. “Heavens, no… I mean… I don’t know. Ask yourself. I feel fine about it.”

“I couldn’t think of anything else,” Rocket scratched the back of his head. “How do you feel about me?”

Cheshire no longer had a clear idea of where their conversation headed. One point it seemed as though as it headed towards a quarrel, in another it became romantic and in this point it’s just confusing.

“How do I feel about you?” Cheshire repeated. “Well it is obvious…” he flustered.

“Really?” Rocket raised an eyebrow, “Because I have no idea what.” He returned to tinkering with the junk as he thought it would be better than fidgeting his fingers.

Cheshire hesitated. He couldn’t believe how oblivious the raccoon was. Since day one he kept on flirting with Rocket and the raccoon still had no idea why. “I love you!” Cheshire yelled on impulse, overwhelmed.

Rocket froze as the echo of Cheshire’s voice repeated twice inside the room. More times faintly in the air vent. Whatever he held, he held suspended when silence took over. The quiet induced his mind to vividly repeat those three words shouting inside his head.

“Oh…” Rocket said after a while. He shook his head and went back to tinkering. “I thought you said it was obvious.”

Cheshire opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted when a loud roar echoed from outside.

Rocket’s fur bristled as the picture of the beast came into his mind. He focused—moving his ears in every direction to detect sounds that might indicate where the beast would be coming from.

“Great,” Rocket spat sarcastically, “Now it probably knows where we are. Thanks a lot.”

Cheshire moved his ears as well, keenly listening. “I…I was only answering…” he kept his voice low though it was probably useless by now.

“You didn’t have to yell, you idiot.” Rocket hurried up in putting his weapon back together. He spent no more time in trying to upgrade it. Just to get it functioning was enough.

The steel floor of the room vibrated in a tempo—one…two…one…two—as the seconds went by. The vibrations became thuds then stomps, louder and louder until it could be vividly located just outside the door.

Rocket paused whatever he was doing and kept his eyes on the barricaded door. He gestured a hush signal as a reply to Cheshire who mouthed the word ‘What’ from the operating bed.

The beast was quiet and didn’t seem to move.

Rocket still had about one piece to attach on his bazooka to get it functioning. When the beast didn’t seem to be doing anything, Rocket attached the last piece, clipping it under the diaphragm of his weapon. Click—one sound it made and got an instant bellow as a reply outside the door.

Rocket muttered a curse and strapped the bazooka on his back. The beast pounded against the metal, trying to break it.

“What’s happening?” Cheshire asked.

Rocket went to the operating bed and pulled out Cheshire’s IV. “I’ll explain later,” Rocket said as he lifted the cat by the waist to get him standing on the floor. “You can stand?” he asked frantically.

Cheshire’s knees were weak but he managed to keep his balance. He nodded a reply to Rocket.

The raccoon looked around the room for another way out but the area was a one way entrance and exit. For them to get out, they have to go through the beast. It wasn’t ideal. He remembered that there was an air vent just above the operating bed. He scurried on top of it and unstrapped his bazooka, blasting the square opening.

The metal door began to give in. It bulged inwards, carving giant lumps the beast forced to push.

Rocket hurried to stack whatever was inside the room until the square opening of the vent could be high enough to jump. He first threw his bazooka and then leaped to the opening. He succeeded but not quite yet. He still has to get Cheshire with him.

“Smug-face,” Rocket peered from above.

The cat trembled on his spot, eyes fixated on the bending door.

“Come up here already!” Rocket yelled.

Cheshire gazed above and weakly, he began jumping small heights.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rocket pulled his ears down. “That thing is almost in get up here already!”

“I can’t!” Cheshire kept on jumping, “I can’t float…” Nevertheless he kept on trying. The metal door already revealed the beast trying to get in. Its eyes were hungrily fixated on the helpless feline cornered inside.

“Just climb the fricking stack!” Rocket’s eyes turned from the door to the cat. “I’ll grab you.”

Cheshire did as he was instructed but because he was still weak each movement required great effort and produced slow results.

The beast already forced half of its body inside, extending its long arm toward the fleeing cat.

When Cheshire was on top of the stack, he only needed to make a jump high enough to grab the raccoon’s hand. Bending his knees, he readied himself.

The beast pulled its body out of the metal door’s gap and seized forward, throwing the doors inward. It hit the stack, pushing Cheshire off balance before he could make his jump. The beast was still fixing itself when Cheshire fell.

Mustering great effort, Cheshire was able to force his power to activate, pushing him slightly higher midair. Rocket grabbed the feline through the fastest seconds Cheshire’s power had given. If Rocket’s reflexes weren’t as fast, the cat would have become mush against the beast’s serrated teeth.

He pulled Cheshire up by one hand and the moment Cheshire was able to sit down, he hid inside Rocket’s arms. His heart pounded against his chest—so strong that Rocket was able to feel it. Cheshire said nothing. He was shaking.

Though the beast was gigantic, it still wasn’t big enough to reach their current location. From below it circled, peering above to the preys it failed to capture.

Rocket pulled Cheshire tighter inside his embrace, brushing his hand at the back of Cheshire’s head. “Next time you want to say you love me, make sure that I’m the only one to hear it.” Rocket comforted, “That beast didn’t seem too happy about it. He must have liked me or something.”

Cheshire managed to chuckle despite his trembling however they were still far from safe. Without Cheshire’s powers, he is just a weight Rocket has to carry. And he didn’t know how much luck he had left to get him by like earlier.

 

 


	19. Marsh of Rebels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late upload. I just moved out of town for the start of classes so it was a hustle xD

The Tweedles dressed themselves of finer garments as to replace the previous ones they have worn which was damaged from the tragedy. They weren’t fully recovered yet but they were mobile and that was enough. Frabjous day impended and they need to be ready no matter the cost.

The white rabbit watched languidly as the twins prepared each other, telling one another what they could make and should make from the resources in Alice’s lab they were yet to discover.

“Brother, we should make a bomb that sets out an electrical field,” said Tweedle Dum as he patched up his twin brother.

“We’re yet to find out if such a thing could be made, brother,” replied Tweedle Dee, patting dust off his brother’s shoulder.

While the twins were getting ready, Mctwisp sat silently on the bed, looking at his hands. It’s happening—the rebellion he always wanted—yet somehow he felt void. Freedom could be theirs to take should they succeed however his yearning seemed to have lessened—vanished albeit not completely.

It could be that because he’s lost two of his team. One, he lost because of a false accusation and another he lost because of his selfishness. In a way, he’s already lost Mallymkun as well since the dormouse no longer sees him as Buck Rabbit. And he doubts that he could also be Nivens Mctwisp. The _real_ Nivens Mctwisp, the white rabbit thought, who was he?

Days only seemed to pass just to erase more of what he once was. It didn’t replace his entirety. It just keeps on stealing it until he was no longer someone anybody knows. Nor anybody wants. He became just a white rabbit called Mctwisp whom everybody hates.

It is ironic how something that made everybody hate him was the very thing they were now pushing for. All it took was for a soul to be taken for everybody to see that they need to fight back. Mctwisp agreed on what Rocket told the mad trio—that if they were really Cheshire’s friends, they should help in any way they can regardless of the risks.

Should Cheshire have succeeded, they would still bear the guilt that they did nothing to earn their freedom. They would have to live knowing that they sacrificed one for the many. In a way, that was still what’s happening. Cheshire may have failed in accomplishing the entire task but it took him his life to make everybody else fight the oppressor.

When the twins were about to leave, Mctwisp finally got up from the bed and scurried towards the duo.

“On the Frabjous day…” Mctwisp trailed off, “If we fail to retrieve the stone, everything will repeat?” he asked.

Tweedle Dum looked down at the rabbit, “Aye.”

“As it was written,” Tweedle Dee added, “The next time it repeats, it would follow the previous flows so we shouldn’t mess this opportunity up or else we be damned.”

“You mean to say… the dead will be resurrected?” Mctwisp asked again.

“Indeed,” Tweedle Dum answered.

Tweedle Dee bridged, “Only to die again.”

“Unless the outsider acts impulsively,” Tweedle Dum finished.

Mctwisp fell to silence as he pondered long.

The twins asked in unison, “Why?”

Mctwisp shook the thought away. “It’s nothing…” he scurried back to the bed and buried himself underneath the covers.

He hoped that he wouldn’t get overwhelmed.

***

When the tides are low, the swamp becomes a marsh. Underneath its waters were thick roots of trees that arched above ground, refusing to have itself buried underneath the squelching mire. Moss blanketed the trunks of most trees and overlapped the arches like hanging curtains. Vines flourished every tree branch, scarfing the trees and dangled on the path like murky tassels. Every once in a while, the wind howls ominously, deceiving outsiders of a predator nonexistent.

Camouflaged with the trees were planks nailed horizontally on its trunks. One above the other, the planks led upward as if it were purposely placed there for whoever’s use. And hiding inside the curtain of leaves were settlements of treehouses connected by rope-bridges and long planks. The settlement was vast but it was quiet. The treehouses were numerous and massive yet there were few beings to actually fill them up.

Four lookout stations were at the edge of the settlement. Thin, metallic wires travelled from one station to the main building, attached on bells which served as the alarm for whatever was coming. One ring meant an outsider was approaching, two rings meant invaders and three rings meant Alice.

The leader of the settlement sat with forlorn silence inside the main building. The years were written in the folds of his skin, making him look always gruff and droopy. His eyes have vanished under the wrinkles of his face giving him a perpetual-focused look while idle. He was troubled inside just as how he looked on the outside.

His once lively settlement became quiet because of a gamble he made with the white queen. Mirana of Marmoreal promised him his people’s freedom if they could take one of Alice’s laboratory stationed at the west of Wonderland. He made an agreement with Mirana and it cost him the lives of his people. He was able to retrieve the lab but the freedom, not so.

Escaping Wonderland was already freedom. He remembered one of his pups telling him. God, he regretted not believing his son. And now, he lost them forever.

One of the bells rung thrice and the leader turned his head in an instant at the sound. At once, younger looking version of the leader marched inside the main building.

“Father, a spacecraft approaches,” he panicked, “What are we to do?”

For a moment, the father of the younger figure panicked as well but he managed to make a decision. “Spy at it from the trees,” his gruffer voice spoke. “And ambush the squadron that approaches.”

***

Where Mirana and the others were headed definitely had no spaceport or at least hard ground they could actually use to land their spacecraft. Everywhere in eyes’ reach was a canvas of bogs and quicksand.

“I’m afraid there’s nowhere we could land on, my queen,” Tarrant said while he looked outside the glass pane.

Iracebeth had been keener. She looked at the navigation map of the spaceship and searched for anywhere they could possibly land. The crappy thing was flickering and she had to punch her fist by its metal side just to have it working.

“Five miles east of here,” Iracebeth said, “Just by the rim of the swamp.”

Mirana was hesitant. “If we land there, we would have to walk all the way back here.”

Mallymkun scurried in front of the white queen, offering an idea. “We could drop you here while Tarrant and I keep an eye on the ship. Just tell us how much time you’ll need and we’ll come pick you up.”

The queens looked at each other and both agreed.

“Since I have a debt with this old friend, talking him into joining us might take a while,” Mirana said, “I’ll try my best.”

Tarrant flew the ship as close to the ground as possible and the queens got down with the assistance of a rope. Mud squelched on their landing and splashed on their gowns on their first strides in the marsh. Not even halfway to the woodland, the red queen became impatient.

“Supposed you could have had Tarrant land us closer to the rim of those trees,” Iracebeth said as she took lethargic steps on the mud. For every step she took, the mud devoured her feet and she had to put in great effort in pulling it out just for it to be swallowed again. Her gown did so much less than just constrict her movements.

“If I had Tarrant land us closer, we might alarm the settlement,” Mirana replied. She too, wasn’t doing a very good job in traversing the muddy path and suffered just as much as her sister but unlike Iracebeth, Mirana maintained her gliding grace.

Iracebeth had lost her patience when she stepped on deep mud and lost her shoe when she pulled her foot out. Her face flushed red from anger and she flailed her arms in the air. She redirected her anger to her dress, ripping the gown that only slowed her in moving. The fabric screeched as Iracebeth pulled off all the layers but one and after that, she felt relieved. She also moved much more freely against the mires with less weight she carried.

“Sister, I suggest you do as I did,” Iracebeth now looked at Mirana who was behind her.

“Nonsense, sister,” Mirana kept her composure albeit it was difficult when she was being dragged down by her enormous gown. “This gown has a fine fabric—I’m not afraid to say the best fabric and I’m not going to give it up.”

Iracebeth rolled her eyes. “It’s already a bloody mess,” Iracebeth pointed at the white gown that turned dark brown. “And if you don’t want to do it for your convenience, do it for mine. I’m already walking ahead of you and I don’t even know where we’re supposed to go.”

“Just ahead,” Mirana was stubborn. “I’ll tell you where to turn.”

“Or you could lead the way.” Iracebeth walked back to Mirana and clutched her sister’s gown.

“Racy, what are you doing?” Mirana tried saving her gown but she failed.

The fabric was torn noisily, its rip echoing to the sky and Mirana’s voice—much louder than the gown’s cry.

“It’s enough, sister, I could move freely,” Mirana lied but Iracebeth kept on going.

The red queen only stopped when she left one layer for her sister. “Now you feel much lighter,” Iracebeth said.

Mirana only looked at the fabric of her gown, turning dark brown as it sank under the puddles. “Well… I’ve got plenty of gowns back in Marmoreal,” she tried to sound positive but the loss of her previous gown was still apparent in her tone. “But now I have one less.”

“It’s not all that bad,” Iracebeth gazed at the torn cloths with her sister, “This one I’m wearing is my last one. The rest was vaporized. Now lead the way.”

When the queens arrived at the woody area, Mirana immediately began scanning the trunks of the trees, parting moss where it covered most. Iracebeth spent the next few moments questioning her sister on what she was doing.

“It’s a ladder,” Mirana retorted, “Planks nailed on trunks. Find them and we find the way above.”

“Above?” Iracebeth’s brows scrunched. She looked high above her but couldn’t make up anything that was up there but the leaves of the trees. She peered harder and then something swift flew past her.

If it weren’t for her fast reflexes, an arrow would have pierced through her skull. Though she hadn’t fought in years, her instincts were just as sharp.

“Ambush!” Iracebeth shouted the moment the image of the arrow dug deep in a trunk registered inside her head.

At Iracebeth’s warning, Mirana kept her guard up as well, sensing danger in every possible direction.

“Let’s watch each other’s backs,” Mirana commanded and ran to her sister.

Iracebeth ran the same direction but before they could meet, they were distracted by enemies each requiring them to fend for themselves. Between the queens landed two cyborgs from above. One was armed with an axe and the other, a bow.

“Compatriots of Alice, be gone,” said the one with the axe.

“Or pay with your lives,” said the other with the bow.

Mirana stepped back and tried to converse the conflict away. “Allies,” she began, “We are no henchmen of Alice. We came here to negotiate with your leader.”

The one with the bow replied but kept his gaze on Iracebeth. “Lie _sss…_ ” his voice was hissy like that of a snake much like his eyes which pupils were dilated slits.

“I am Mirana of Marmoreal,” the white queen introduced herself, “and I am allies with your leader.”

Iracebeth joined in, “And I am Iracebeth of Crims. I have never met your leader.”

Mirana slapped her own forehead.

“Crim _sss_?” the snaky one repeated, “in Salazen Grum?”

The buffer one with the axe added, “The red queen…”

Iracebeth smiled, “Correct. It is I.”

The two cyborgs were idle for a moment before both were resolute in fighting.

“I saw my friends get dragged by your cards,” said the one with the axe, puffing out mists from his nostrils.

“I witnessed mine get beheaded,” hissed the one with the bow.

Now, with the way things were, they’re sure to fight. Mirana didn’t give up, however, and tried to resolve the misunderstanding.

“It’s all Alice,” Mirana said and before she could continue, she was silenced by the cyborg with the axe.

“Enough!” he yelled, “Time to die!” he bent his knees and then kicked the ground, leaping high in the air with his axe above him. The edge of the weapon glistened with the sunbeam as the axe-wielder’s shadow shrunk on Mirana.

The white queen frowned and simply widened her stance. Before the cyborg could hit her, Mirana crouched down and tumbled back. She evaded gracefully despite the quickness of how it all happened. Even as the enemy approached with haste, she was able to maintain her fluidity.

“Mirana!” Iracebeth yelled and ran to her sister, not minding the snaky cyborg right in front of her. She was stopped on her tracks when an arrow pierced inches away from her outstepped toe.

Iracebeth eyed him and the archer let another arrow loose which the red queen evaded by a quick sidestep. She lunged in the air as the enemy reached in for his quiver. She was about give the cyborg a direct kick but she knew better than to do so when she spotted the enemy’s hand already on one arrow.

Instead of landing a swift kick, she bent sideways, somersaulting midair and landed on her feet. The moment she reached the ground, she took the opportunity in the archer taking out an arrow to fall back and hide behind the trees.

The axe-cyborg’s weapon smashed the muddy ground, creating a crevice that was filled with water instantly. Just a few feet ahead were the calm white queen unscathed by the cyborg’s attack. With one hand, the enemy pulled out his battle axe, splashed with mud instead of the white queen’s blood.

“You move as if you’re gliding,” said the cyborg, “It’s slow. Let’s see how you can keep up.”

He flipped his axe and swung it horizontally with amazing speed.

Mirana let herself fall on her back and when she landed, she kicked back up standing, landing a few blows on the chiseled body of her enemy who was still pulling his axe from the momentum gained of such a swift attack.

Mirana’s punches seemed barely lethal with the way she moved but it was enough to have his buff opponent almost down on his knees. Her targets were vitals after all. And nobody can train vitals to withstand attacks.

The cyborg trembled but he kept himself from falling. Letting go of his axe, he switched to weaponless combat, swiping his big hands directly against the white fighter. Even when he put great force in swinging his arm, its momentum was postponed immediately when Mirana struck between where his arms bent.

Still not giving up, the cyborg kicked with his foot which the white queen evaded but that was what he just wanted his opponent to do. When Mirana ducked, the cyborg was able to grab her arm with his undamaged hand. With the white queen’s size, she was easily overpowered. The cyborg lifted her up in the air and was about to slam her.

Mirana quickly wrapped her legs on the arm which held her in the air. Using full force, she twisted herself along with the arm. The fierce, snapping of a bone echoed to the sky and was followed by the agonizing cry of the cyborg. The enemy winced in pain on the ground, curling himself to a ball.

When the figure dropped on the ground, an arrow flew towards Mirana’s direction.

It missed but it scratched the side of her cheek. Crimson painted her ivory skin. It ran down her like red tears.

The snaky archer pulled his string taut once again but before he could loosen the arrow, a stone went flying his direction. It hit him in the eye and it set his arrow flying above head. The moment he was distracted, Iracebeth charged from one of the trees, battle-crying.

The cyborg panicked, reaching in for his quiver as fast as he could. He managed to let another arrow loose but it merely flew past beside Iracebeth. He took another arrow but this time, before he could even put it beside the string, Iracebeth kicked the bow from his possession. The weapon was sent flying to the sky.

Iracebeth spun half a circle and elbowed the cyborg directly on the stomach. The enemy groaned and bent down on his knees. With one last blow, Iracebeth raised her leg in the air before pushing it down hard against the snake-cyborg’s back. The enemy fell unconscious on the ground.

Iracebeth met up with her sister and wiped the trickling blood on her sister’s face. “Don’t worry about it, sister,” Iracebeth said, “It won’t even leave a scratch.”

Just as they thought they were safe, more enemies seemed to have approached. From their standing, gray metallic orbs with red lenses rolled. It ticked by the recesses of a second and then faster and the queens realized it was a bomb.

The sisters fled but the explosion had them off their balance. They were belly-flopped on the mud before they could even realize that enemies surrounded them at pointblank range.

They were held with their arms behind their backs, roped.

“Sister, give me your word, we shall fight them to the death,” Iracebeth whispered.

“No, sister,” Mirana said, “This is good. They’ll take us to their leader and then we can talk.”

Amid the crowding enemies, the leader made his way to the captives.

Mirana was delighted. “B-bayard!” she said, “What a wonderful time to see you.”

The leader of the group just lifted a brow up to the muddy prisoner. “You must be talking about my father,” he said, “Don’t worry. We’re taking you to him and then he will decide what your punishment will be.”

He walked out thereafter.


	20. Genetics Section

Rocket crept on his belly, maneuvering his self with his forearms and the kick of his feet. His bazooka was in front of him and kept it ahead by pushing it. Since the vent was narrow, he had to crawl aimlessly without a plan on where to go. He based his destination on the only available route.

Cheshire followed behind, sometimes looking over his shoulder as if the threat of something tailing lingered. It was unlikely though since the narrow space could hardly accommodate him and Rocket. There was no way that the beast could trail them.

“Back there…” Cheshire trailed off, “What was that thing?”

Rocket stopped moving and looked back to Cheshire. “Beats me…” He forwarded again. “Perhaps it was the _bandit-snatcher_.”

“The Bandersnatch?” Cheshire said instantly after Rocket finished.

“Yeah,” Rocket pushed his bazooka. “That psychotic bunny wanted to turn me into that.”

Cheshire felt embarrassed. “His ideas could be very... _experimental_.”

Rocket stopped for a moment. Beneath him was an exit to a dark room. He crept forward and then removed the covering. He slipped his head outside and scanned the room. It was empty. He first got out of the vent, hanging before letting himself drop on the hard floor.

Cheshire reached in for Rocket’s bazooka and threw it gently to the waiting raccoon. When Rocket strapped the weapon on his back, Cheshire carefully estimated his own jump. He first let his feet dangle out of the exit and then he pushed forward, falling upright. He didn’t know if his strength would be enough to land him unscathed and he didn’t have to. He was caught by the raccoon who had been waiting for him.

“You weigh like you’re nothing at all,” Rocket whispered close to Cheshire’s mouth.

The cat had his arms around Rocket’s neck as the raccoon carried him like a groom to his bride. They were close to each other. So close that a mere inch was all that kept their mouths from a sensational kiss. Cheshire leaned in to erase that distance—just to once again feel Rocket’s mouth paired with his but the raccoon looked away.

Cheshire felt ashamed to have been denied and he didn’t wait for Rocket to place him on the floor. Cheshire got off himself. They stood awkwardly in silence with the cat staring on the floor and the raccoon elsewhere.

Rocket spoke first. “You lied to me about your past…”

Cheshire’s ears twitched up, recalling if he lied which he didn’t remember doing. “I don’t recall lying to you…” he trailed off.

Rocket growled, slightly startling the feline. “Do you take me for some stupid thing?”

“I never said that—”

“But you’re acting like I am,” Rocket gritted his teeth. He didn’t let Cheshire speak. “And don’t try and change what we’re talking about here. You lied,” Rocket pointed a finger to Cheshire, “Everything I know about you is a fricking lie.”

“Aye…” Cheshire’s voice was low. “I am a liar because hiding things is no different than lying, no?”

Rocket laughed as if he just heard the funniest joke ever but his expression contradicted his action. “You’re not going to defend yourself?” Rocket snarled. He flexed his hands, curling them to knuckles.

“I am guilty as charged,” Cheshire said.

The moment Cheshire finished speaking, Rocket grabbed him lightning fast, clutching his hands on Cheshire’s suit. He pulled the feline close to him. Cheshire was slightly raised up from Rocket’s grip and he didn’t act against Rocket.

“Are you messing with me right now?” Rocket clasped his teeth. He stared at Cheshire straight in the eyes and the cat never looked so solemn. All the rage he had vanished and was replaced by sorrow. He placed Cheshire down, still keeping his hands on the feline’s jumpsuit. He buried his face on the cat’s chest and breathed him in. “Don’t you trust me?”

Rocket’s question caught Cheshire off guard. Even Cheshire himself never thought about that even once. And the reason for all his confinement came into questioning. Why did he confide?

“Perhaps because I want you so much,” Cheshire swallowed, fighting the lump that formed inside his throat. “And I hate myself equally as much. And I was afraid that you wouldn’t like me if you knew who I was.”

Rocket looked up to the feline whose eyes were already closed trying to keep the tears from coming out. “That’s all the reason why you kept from me?” Rocket asked to which the cat nodded an agreeing response.

“Because who would love a murderer?” Cheshire inhaled. “There is no justice in what I’ve done in the past. I’ve killed people, Rocket— _innocent_ people.” Cheshire paused and his sobbing turned quiet. Moments later, he whispered ominously, “And I smiled as they burned.”

Rocket tried to hush Cheshire but he didn’t know what to say. With what the cat told him, he couldn’t help but compare the cat with the suicidal Kree fanatic, Ronan.

“Along with my friends, we hunted the infinity gems—drugged by its powers. We burned villages, abducted people and tormented them and with each crime, we praised ourselves.” Cheshire drowned in guilt for all that he’s done. He couldn’t bring back the lives he had taken. He could only wish that he felt guilt much sooner so that it could have restrained him from killing all his victims. “Part of my thoughts when I had Tarrant turn me into a bomb was that I didn’t deserve freedom… but it was there for me to give. Since I never did anything good, I thought it would be the first and last thing I’d part with.”

Rocket ran his hands on Cheshire’s head. He let his touch calm the cat first before getting his words inside. “Blah, blah, blah,” Rocket’s voice was husky. He just realized that a clump of emotional feelings blocked his throat. “It’s heavy taking all of that in,” Rocket said, “But I could take it.”

Cheshire looked at Rocket in the eyes. “You’re okay with it?”

“You were a genocidal asshole, a destructive maniac—let’s just say a complete jackass.” Rocket paused to look at the reaction of the cat. He continued, “Only an idiot would justify what you did.”

“I understand if you don’t–”

“And I’m not an idiot so I won’t justify it but I do like you,” Rocket paused and said under his breath, “That or maybe I just want another of the _thing_ we did back at the inn.”

“Aren’t you bothered?” Cheshire sniffled.

“Why would I be?” Rocket returned, “A bunch of people I don’t know died. What’s it to me? I mean, if I could save them, I would but I couldn’t so there’s no point in crying over some spilled milk. Best to just move on. Besides…” Rocket breathed, “My hands aren’t as clean as you think.”

Cheshire looked down and Rocket pinched his chin, tipping his head up to face him.

“What got you to feel remorse?” Rocket chortled.

“A series of experimentations…” Cheshire answered jokingly albeit he half-meant it. “I took it as my punishment.” He held Rocket’s hand.

“No more secrets?” Rocket’s tone rose to let Cheshire finish.

“That’s about everything in my past,” Cheshire wiped his face.

Rocket leaned in. “Then I guess you could now have this…”

Slowly, Rocket closed in the distance of their mouths as he touched his lips with Cheshire. It wasn’t only the cat who longed for the very thing they were doing. Rocket also missed the sensation. It was somewhat a completion—a satisfaction of unique category which only seemed available in the cat.

Heat rushes rose behind Rocket’s ears and he found that he no longer just want the exterior of Cheshire’s mouth. Seconds within the kiss, he started biting softly and when the cat opened his mouth to gasp, he took the opportunity in digging deeper. He ran his tongue against the bristles of Cheshire’s, chortling in the mid as he forgot how ecstatic it felt.

Cheshire moaned. And then his hands unconsciously embraced the raccoon behind the neck.

Inside the dark room, they were stopped by the sound of a parting metal door.

In an instant, Rocket turned his head away and placed his hand on the bazooka behind his back. A stumble followed the previous sound and then there were faint grunts and groans.

Rocket grabbed Cheshire’s hand and pulled him to hide by a cylindrical container ten times their size. He unstrapped his bazooka.

“Stay here,” Rocket whispered and stayed low. He went around the cylindrical blockade and followed the disturbing noise of something flopping on the floor constantly. Rocket ran to the edge of the room and traced his way to the door which, whoever was inside used to enter.

There was a messy splash of crimson by the entrance and it dragged a red trail to the direction where the intruder was. Rocket remained by the edge of the trail, avoidant of the blood that could taint his feet. He followed it and the sound with his bazooka at aim ahead of him.

Moments later, the lights got activated revealing rows and columns of cylindrical glass cages housing abominations. Some were active and some were expired. Rocket couldn’t help but take a moment to look at the _monsters_ trapped inside with tubes running in and out of them.

A frightful scream echoed inside the room and Rocket acted instantly, following the noise. He arrived at a scenario where a man was belly flopped on the floor, bloodied and weak with the cat hoisting the man’s upper body with one hand and with the other, outstretched with extended adamantium claws ready for stabbing.

“Please… s-spare me,” the man’s hands were in the air as a gesture of surrender, “I-I barely escaped the Bandersnatch. Please spare me.”

Rocket was about to speak but Cheshire spoke ahead of him.

“Your arrogance seemed to have been flushed away now that you are at my mercy.” Cheshire’s tone was low and he had contempt—a lot of it for him to say such things.

“I-I was only following Alice,” the man cried, “I dare not disobey her or else…” he looked all around him.

Rocket followed the man’s gaze which pointed to the abominations. Then he looked at Cheshire. Menace was in the eyes of the feline and Rocket wouldn’t be surprised if those sharp claws would home for the man’s throat. He kind of expected it but the cat simply took a breath in and retracted his extended claws. Thereafter, he helped the man sit up against a metal wall.

“T-thank you…” the man quivered.

Cheshire sat beside the man and patted the area beside him for Rocket.

“You’re bleeding massively,” Cheshire said, “At this rate you’re going to…”

“I know…” the man swallowed. He perspired rapidly and he was shaking. The color on his lips faded having his bruises and scratches much more saturated. “I-I’m a coward… I’d rather go like this than be devoured by that creature.”

Blood pooled in the area of the man and Cheshire had to scoot away. Rocket followed. They spent the next few minutes in silence.

Cheshire was tensed all the times. Rocket knew by looking at the gaps of Cheshire’s fingers. The tip of the cat’s claws seemed to push slightly out then back in again. Rocket wondered if he was the reason why Cheshire didn’t murder the man beside him.

“T-thank you for sparing me…” the man whispered weakly.

Cheshire gritted his teeth.

The man continued, “I-if you know already what kind of prison Wonderland is… the least I could tell you is the location of the infinity gem.”

Cheshire’s ears perked up. “Infinity gem?”

Rocket now just remembered that he hasn’t told Cheshire about their current state.

“Yes…” the man gasped weakly, “It is at the heart of Time…”

Rocket got up, forwarding to the man. “Heart of time?” he asked, “That doesn’t make sense! Could you be more specific?”

The man’s eyes were narrow slits trying to widen. He lifted a finger and tapped it on his sternum. “The heart… of… Time…” his hand fell on the bloodied floor.

Cheshire was silent as he watched the man’s last seconds dwindle. Then he turned to Rocket.

“I had no idea what he was talking about.” Cheshire said.

Rocket looked to the cat. “Do you know where your friends are?” he asked.

“Probably at Marmoreal. Why?”

“We need to get there,” Rocket looked around the room for another exit but to their misfortune there was only one excluding the air vent which they could no longer reach.

“What’s happening?” Cheshire was confused. He wasn’t aware of Alice actually possessing an infinity gem.

“I’ll tell you along the way,” Rocket unstrapped his bazooka. “Just stay behind me. We’re going past the creature.”


	21. Between Two Names

When the Tweedles had left with a small party to the west side of Wonderland, Mctwisp remained inside the infirmary with no one else but the March hare. Thackery was playing by himself on the vacant floors—hopping from one bed to another and perhaps throws a pillow when the impulse overwhelmed him.

Mctwisp was set to move out soon. He was stalled by an argument inside his head, fighting over what is right and what is not. Two principles battled—one telling him to fight Alice and the other, telling him to join Alice. If anybody could bring back Cheshire, it would be Alice since she possessed the infinity gem of time. Even if it’s just a portion, its power is already more than enough.

Perhaps they haven’t tried all the options yet, Mctwisp thought. None of them ever tried rationalizing with Alice before. Maybe the mad tyrant could be convinced in freeing them all. Maybe there is no need for violence to break out—for blood to spill on the ground. Either way, if he fails and everybody turns against him, the time gem would be there to reset everything and nobody would remember what happened set aside Tweedle Dee.

Mctwisp wasn’t aware of it but he was already getting out of bed. He moved in a slow manner, eyes deep into space as he began walking out of the infirmary. It was already when he was at the door had realized that his mind was blank the whole time and that his body was moving with the intention to approach Alice.

More realizations came into him when he snapped back to reality. There is no need for Cheshire to die. Mctwisp merely has to let the time loop reset and then the cat would be alive once again. It doesn’t matter if Cheshire’s written to die in the next reset. What matters is that he will be alive after that and again and again. That’s what truly mattered. If the rebellion succeeds, they might be free but some of them might be dead as well.

Mctwisp took out his pocket watch. It was designed to locate wherever Alice was in Wonderland. With just one push of a small button by the base of the watch, the body of the clock shifted and revealed a small GPS based map. A green dot pulsated and it was the exact coordinates of Alice.

The white rabbit opened the door, about to scurry out when Thackery spoke, reminding Mctwisp that the March hare was still there.

“Where is bunny going?” Thackery laughed the question out.

Mctwisp looked over his shoulder to the mad hare. “I’m going to save everybody…” Mctwisp trailed off, “including you, old friend. Supposed I could make Alice a deal… change one course of the loop she’s written and spare you from being mad.” Mctwisp inhaled, “Why am I even telling you this? It’s not like you could fully comprehend what I’m saying.”

Thackery’s laugh echoed and out of the blue he said something very random. “James ones liked a mad bunny.”

Mctwisp was supposed to leave but he was anchored for a moment albeit he knew talking to Thackery would be pointless. “I wish that mad bunny were here. He might have been hated by the universe but he was loved by his team. All that’s left is this fuzz-ball of mistakes.”

“James could still see him.” Thackery chortled. He was focused for a second but that’s the longest he’ll ever be focused. He was distracted immediately by whatever was inside the infirmary that had him playing by himself again.

Mctwisp held the knob of the door with reluctance. He watched as the March hare played and he had second doubts about what he was going to do. He didn’t know anymore.


	22. The Bloodhound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The illustration is about when all of this is over... that in the end it's still Lylla and Rocket :/
> 
> Oh well... that's why fanfictions exist xD For this kind of stuff to be given a chance to exist.

<http://sanjiyu.deviantart.com/art/Wildest-Dreams-687296629>

 

The mossy ladder was difficult to climb but it was no longer a dilemma for the queens. Having their arms bound behind their backs, they were hoisted up on a wooden board by a pulley to the above-head civilization only their imaginations could comprehend. The red queen had been complaining all the time they were captured and she was the only one making a fuss about her captors but even her noisy mouth was silenced when she witnessed the utopia camouflaged within the leaves.

Tens of houses—no—hundreds stretched as far as the curtain of leaves allowed and behind those covers lay more. The shanties looked frail but were much sturdier having it accommodated heavy-looking residents without breaking. Each treehouse had its own area and was connected by bridges of planks and wires made of thick vines.

Few children played about, halting to spare a frightful gaze at the captured prisoners before scurrying away back to their homes. Despite having a massive area, the safe haven seemed… empty.

The queens walked in a line—Iracebeth behind Mirana—and the red queen couldn’t help but ask, “Don’t you think they overdid this little town? The houses outnumber its residents.”

Mirana swallowed and didn’t seem to have the intention of replying to her sister. A feeling of guilt corrupted inside her throat rendering her from telling the answer to her sister. However one of their captors seemed to have overheard Iracebeth’s question and answered it himself.

“The houses were just enough actually,” the captor that walked behind Iracebeth answered, “Rather it’s the opposite of what you said. Our population outnumbered the houses.”

Iracebeth looked over her shoulder and thought for a while. “One of your comrades mentioned that some of his friends were executed… could that have been what reduced your number?”

The captor gave out a wry laughter. “Compared to your sister’s plans, your executions are just puny things.”

“I don’t understand…” Iracebeth looked to Mirana.

The white queen had her eyes closed but kept on walking, head held up high.

The captor began. “We started out as a small group in the clockwork town. Primarily, we all wanted to get back up there,” he pointed his eyes to the heavens then continued, “But no way in hell could that be possible so we settled with something much more achievable—life without Alice’s control. We had a small party that fled to these swamps and every now and then we invade the town to rescue more folks to take with us until we had our own colony.” The captor spat heights and ran his hand in the air, presenting the shanties which were now empty. “We kept on growing and was satisfied with our way of living until…” he trailed off and looked at the white queen.

Iracebeth asked to continue, “Until what?”

“Until I showed up,” Mirana broke her silence. She had enough.

The captor spat again. “It was because of the white queen that we were almost wiped out.”

“Sister, is this true?” Iracebeth asked.

Mirana nodded. “I saw a chance of freedom.” Mirana explained, “And I wanted to use that chance for all of us.”

Iracebeth opened her mouth to speak but was intercepted by the captor.

“And where did that lead us to?” the captor asked. “Most of us died. Some that survived were taken in and experimented on.”

Mirana stopped walking and Iracebeth almost bumped into her. She faced the captor. “But we succeeded in taking one of her labs. I have my best inventors there right now and they will use the resources to supply us in the upcoming war.”

The captor grabbed Mirana by the shoulder and turned her in front, pushing her to walk forward. “Tell that to the chief if he’d still let you live after what you pulled on your previous offer.”

They arrived at the biggest building and the guards that surrounded the queens remained before the plank bridge. It was only the squadron’s leader that walked ahead, pulling the reigns of the queens’ binds that accompanied them inside the foreboding shanty.

When they were inside, they were pushed kneeling before the chief—the leader of the haven.

“I have brought the interlopers, father,” the identical figure said.

The chief—Bayard—had been facing them all the time but seemed to have just noticed their arrival when his son spoke. He opened his eyes that were covered by the folds of his skin to better look at the captives.

“Queens…” his voice slightly sound perplexed. “Unbind them at once, Baeley,” he commanded.

“But father, we are unguarded,” Baeley protested, “and I’ve seen them fight. They could easily kill us.”

“They won’t,” Bayard grunted, “Unbind them immediately. They are guests not prisoners.”

Baeley was reluctant and he looked to his father and the prisoners alternatively before taking out a knife from his belt’s harness. He cut the ropes.

“Thank you, old friend,” Mirana massaged her wrists.

“What brings you here?” Bayard asked. He got up from his chair, shaking—the age, manifesting itself through the way he moved.

Mirana swallowed. “I’m going to need your aid, old friend… as I have once asked of you in the past.”

Although it wasn’t obvious, Mirana still noticed that the bloodhound was surprised had she seen Bayard’s eyes widen. “I’m afraid you won’t get what you came here for.”

Mirana stood up and strode towards Bayard, placing her hands on the bloodhound’s arms. “I know I’ve failed you in the past but this time… it’s different.”

Bayard walked back to his chair and sat down, bending forward with his arms on his lap. The wrinkles of his skin drooping. “With all due respect, my queen, but I cannot hand you over the last of my men. We are all that remain here.”

“Bayard, please listen…”

Bayard growled, silencing the queen and then he apologized shortly thereafter. “My sons…” his voice sounded low, “My daughters… my wife… my people… they all died fighting for something that we cannot even achieve.”

“I’m sorry for what happened to your family… truly, I am and the guilt cannot overwhelm me more that it torments me every day knowing that I have taken a lot from you…”

“Then you understand that you won’t get what you’re after,” Bayard interjected. He sounded much more aggressive and the calmness of his façade was slowly leaving. “You’re asking that I send my people to their certain deaths. If I do that, what kind of an alpha am I?”

“This time, I’m sure,” Mirana pushed forth. She was desperate.

Bayard paid her no mind. “I suggest you leave at once,” he said, “Before you drive me mad.”

Mirana didn’t seem to have the intention of leaving and when she showed Bayard that she would stay, Bayard ordered Baeley to drag the queens out. Baeley held Mirana by the arm and took Iracebeth as well.

“Wait,” Mirana pleaded, “Please, Bayard.”

“Your people…” Iracebeth shouted as she yanked her arm off from Baeley’s grip, “Don’t you want to avenge them? Your wife and your children?”

Bayard growled.

The red queen continued, “What my sister did was terrible but it wasn’t in vain. Your peoples’ sacrifice hasn’t gone to nothing. What your people fought for—two of the best inventors are there, creating weapons that Alice could only build in her dreams. And though few our numbers will be this time, fewer would die once they are equipped with fine techs. My sister and I cannot promise you that blood will not be shed. It is war. It is inevitable and you know it… but my sister and I can guarantee you that your people and the rest of us will be free.”

Silence occupied the entire building. Even Baeley paused in trying to drag the queens out. Bayard lifted a brow. “You’re persuasive,” he said, “But I made up my mind. I will not risk my people. Baeley, take them out.”

Baeley didn’t move.

Bayard commanded again.

There came no actual response from his son. “Father…” Baeley said, “I think the red queen is right…”

“Baeley, we will not speak of this…” Bayard raised his voice. “Take them out.”

“No, fath—no, dad… she _is_ right. Mum and my other siblings… they died and are we to do nothing about it?”

“Baeley, you are to shut your mouth,” Bayard stood up.

“Aye… I’ll do that just for you,” Baeley’s voice was low. “Because that’s how you want to deal with their sacrifice—by shutting up about it.”

Iracebeth joined in the conversation. “Alice has the portion of an infinity gem, Bayard and believe it or not this has been happening over and over again for God knows how many times.”

Bayard snarled. “Do you expect me to believe that? You’re telling me countless times my people had fought in your war?”

“Not this exact scenario,” Iracebeth trailed off. “This is the first time we’re heading out of what Alice wrote which is why we need to grab that opportunity in finally defeating her.”

Bayard tapped his finger on the arm of his chair, a light growl echoing under his breath however he was all but convinced. “Baeley, take them out now. Disobey me again and you I shall banish you from this place.”

Baeley walked to Iracebeth and held the red queen on the forearm gently, coaxing her to come with him. Before guiding the queens out, he turned back to his father. “I see that’s how you want to handle the last of your living sons. I’ll take them out and I’m going with them.”

Bayard stood up in an instant. “You dare—”

“Aye, I dare, Da,” Baeley interjected. “What are you going to do about it? I don’t know what this infinity gem is and I don’t care. I’m fighting for two things and that’s that. I’m fighting for vengeance and freedom. What about you, Da? What are you fighting for?”

The older bloodhound was left in silence, idle on where he stood as he watched his son exit with the queens. He was convinced yet he forced himself not to engage in the war. He kept on recalling what his youngest son had said back then—that freedom was already theirs.

***

Baeley guided the queens on the plank leading to what seemed to be the haven’s town square. The folks gathered all around, just sitting in a circle.

“I’m sorry if I hadn’t convinced my father…” Baeley apologized, “But allow me to fight in this war. I will give it my all and die fighting.”

“You’re very honorable,” Mirana said and then looked to her sister. “Thank you, Racy, for trying.”

They were just about to leave when Baeley suddenly invited the queens to the town square. Many cyborgs of different sizes and species and intelligent animalistic beings gathered around, parting way as the son of the chief made his way to the center.

Mirana and Iracebeth passed by their previous opponents. The axe-cyborg had a bandage on his dislocated arm and the snaky one covering the eye which the red queen previously hit with a stone.

Baeley stood on a platform and the moment he did, all eyes turned on him and it became dead quiet.

“People!” Baeley shouted. “The queens here I present to you before me are chances of freedom!”

The crowd buzzed from all the gathered whispers as doubtful and resentful eyes directed at the red and white queens.

“They hold a chance for all of us to be free!” Baeley continued, “I am going to be honest with all of you. If you follow them, most of you are probably going to die. Most of you are probably going to suffer as the others had in the previous war against Alice. That is no lie!”

The buzz in the crowd became much louder.

“What is he doing?” Iracebeth whispered through gritted teeth. “Is he trying to antagonize us?”

Mirana hushed her sister with a finger. “Let us just see…”

“I am telling you this because I am giving you a choice!” Baeley yelled at the top of his lungs. More and more people reacted negatively—apparent from their faces as the son of the chief appeared mad as a March hare asking them to die. “I am going to fight alongside these queens! And if fate writes that I die, so be it but I am going to die fighting for two things: vengeance and freedom!”

One cyborg from the crowd surfaced, stepping in front. It was the axe-cyborg Mirana had previously fought. “Son of the chief, with all due respect but don’t you think we would just be running to our deaths?” he asked. “Aye, these queens are fierce warriors,” he emphasized with his injured arm, “But even if we have them, I doubt we would win against Alice.”

“Then do not fight,” Baeley answered directly. As much as possible, he didn’t include the part where they would have the same level of technology to use against Alice so that he is able to separate those who would _truly_ fight from those who would fight only because of the odds. “As I have said before, you are given a choice: to fight for freedom and avenge your dear ones or continue living—doing nothing.”

Moments passed and the crowd was silenced. There were no more buzzing noises—just faces of despair and reluctance. Baeley walked out of the elevated platform and invited the queens that they leave.

“I’ll fight,” hissed one from the crowd. It was the snaky cyborg.

“I’ll fight as well,” surfaced another one—the axe-cyborg.

More and more people joined in and before they even knew it, they already have a small platoon of warriors following behind them. Many were still left at the town square compared to those that followed but it was enough for the queens.

“Where do we go now, your majesties?” Baeley asked.

Mirana lead the way. “Follow me,” she said, “We prepare for the Frabjous day.”


	23. Secret Passages

When Tarrant and Mallymkun made their landing on solid ground, the mad hatter was able to glimpse at Salazen Grum from their high vantage. What was supposed to be a gigantic chasm from Cheshire’s explosion was still the figure of a castle in the middle of a gorge—crumbling but still standing.

It had the mad hatter thinking as they landed the ship.

“Mally,” Tarrant said, “Tell me if I’m going mad after I say this but Cheshire might be alive and well…no not well but alive, well he could be well and alive but alive and well at the same—”

“Hatter!” Mallymkun snapped Tarrant when the hatter’s pace in speaking increased as the sense of it decreased.

Tarrant stopped, “Fez…” and then he shook his head. “How much time does the queen need again?”

Mallymkun shrugged, “She didn’t exactly say anything about it but I bet it’s not enough for you to go on exploring outside.”

Tarrant’s brows centered and relaxed simultaneously. “Crims palace is still standing…”

“Impossible,” Mallymkun gasped. “So does that mean someone was able to disable the bomb?”

“Apparently.” Tarrant punched the red button that opened the exit.

“Hatter, where are you going?” Mallymkun asked.

Tarrant walked outside. “Don’t wait for me, Mally.” He said nothing more than his farewell as he made his way outside.

***

It was quiet all around. Other than the occasional sound of bubbling water from the cylindrical containers, it was their breaths that added to the noise. Rocket walked back and forth before the metal door of the genetics section. He hesitated in opening the exit for fear that the Bandersnatch might intercept them the soonest. There were no growls or light bellows that could indicate the beast’s presence outside yet the raccoon was taking too much caution.

Cheshire leaned against one of the cylinders with his shoulder and his foot, crossed on the other as he observed Rocket. “Don’t you think it’s about time we move out?” the Cheshire cat asked and followed another statement. “We’ve been here for hours… the beast isn’t likely to be there anymore.”

Rocket stopped pacing. “We can’t… we’re not sure,” he said shortly and then began walking back and forth again.

“Then what do you plan on doing?”

“I don’t know,” Rocket said the moment Cheshire finished. “I can’t risk you getting mauled by that beast. I’m thinking of a more convenient way we could go through this.”

Cheshire sighed, “I’ll be fine. Just open the door and we’ll cautiously make our way—”

“No you won’t,” Rocket interjected. He didn’t even look at Cheshire. Instead, he had his hand under his chin and the other folded on his chest, deep into formulating a strategy he couldn’t think of hours from now.

“Is this just because of me?” Cheshire stood up straight. “Am I the reason why you’re so hesitant?”

Rocket paid him no mind.

“I can take care of myself, I’ll have you know.” Cheshire walked over to Rocket.

Rocket stopped when the cat was in his mid. “I’m not risking your safety so stop being an idiot and let me think.”

Cheshire gave out a wry chuckle. “Do you think I can’t fend for myself? Do you see me as some weakling?”

“Without your assets you are a weakling.” There was no trace of reluctance in Rocket’s voice with the way he let go of those words. He was blunt and didn’t have the intention of euphemizing whatever he said.

Cheshire intercepted Rocket in his back and forth pace. “Just because I use my assets all the time, doesn’t mean I’m weak. I wasn’t born being able to fly and disappear.”

Rocket inhaled. He planted his hands on his hips and looked at Cheshire straight in the eyes. “Oh yeah, tough guy?” he challenged, “Then tell me, how are you going to protect yourself from that _ban-that-snitch_ without any weapons?”

Cheshire folded his hands on his chest. “First of all, it’s Ban-der-snatch,” he segmented the word and then lifted one hand between him and Rocket. “Second, I have this.” He pushed out three shiny claws from between the gaps of his fingers. It glimmered, from the fluorescent lamps above them, emphasizing its serrated tips however the raccoon was all but convinced.

“You’re planning on combatting that enormous thing?” he flailed his hands in the air to scale the Bandersnatch’s size. “I’m not letting you get near that thing.”

“I’m a fricking cat!” Cheshire bursts, “I have natural assets I could use!”

Rocket retorted. “So what if you’re a fricking cat? I don’t even know what that is except that it’s apparently you after your claim.”

Cheshire groaned. “Just trust me okay? I can look after myself. You don’t have to baby me around.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t baby you around if you quit acting like one.”

“So I’m babying around?” Cheshire chortled wryly. “So that makes you my father all of the sudden?”

“Look at it in whatever way you want but I am not risking you,” Rocket raised his voice a pitch higher to overcome the cat’s. Then his voice became low. “I’m just tired of worrying,” his gaze averted to the floor. “I’m just fed up of _that_ feeling when I think that I’ll end up alone again.”

Cheshire swallowed. He wanted to reply but found that he couldn’t.

“You understand, right?” Rocket said under his breath a little too low for anybody to hear. Perhaps he meant it for himself and just unconsciously said it. Regardless of the reason, Cheshire was still able to hear it and no… he didn’t understand. He didn’t know what it was like to lose someone.

“So we stay here?” Cheshire’s first words were raspy. He fell back on the metal floor with a thud and noticed something odd about the vibration his landing had made. He thought it was just his imagination but if he wasn’t mistaken, he heard a very faint echo underneath.

He lay flat on the floor with his ears against the metal. He knocked a few times but the force he made against the floor wasn’t enough to get a feedback. He wasn’t able to confirm a speculation but he was risking it.

Standing up, he extended his claws out from his flesh—six pieces of sharp, indestructible metal displayed.

Rocket observed the feline that was focused staring on the floor. Before he could ask what Cheshire was about to do, the cat began scratching manically against the floor. There were clangs on the first swipes as the cat scarred triple exes on the specific area. The screech of the metal gradually sounded less of screeches and became more of clangs and the sound of livewires spitting.

After much endeavor, Cheshire was able to create a small hole where he could peek on what’s underneath. He knelt on the floor and slipped his head inside the hole. There was light below. It was far and his claws could only dig so deep. It was still unreachable plus the entrance he created couldn’t even fit him.

“There’s a passage underneath us,” Cheshire said. “Could you widen the hole?”

Rocket snorted. He smiled quite largely, displaying his sharp canines to the feline without saying anything.

“What’s funny?” Cheshire asked without a clue.

The raccoon simply unstrapped his bazooka and charged the weapon for an ion blast. “What’s funny is that…” Rocket paused just to look at Cheshire with wild malice in his eyes. He continued, “…this isn’t the first time I’m using my big gun against a hole.”

Cheshire flustered and found that his voice had temporarily left him. Heat rushes invaded his neck up to behind his ears.

Rocket blasted the hole and the noise his bazooka created had an instant feedback of the Bandersnatch bellowing outside.

“Woops,” Rocket strapped his bazooka on his back, “Better move quickly.” He jumped down the hole and landed on all fours.

Cheshire followed without having to wait for Rocket to catch him. He landed roughly on the raccoon’s back, coiling him against the floor. “Oh sorry… you said move quickly,” Cheshire remarked sarcastically.

Rocket groaned as he got up, stretching his back. “I don’t know if I deserved that or not.”

They were now inside a tunnel where forward and backward were identical—both were an endless path lighted by the stream of fluorescent lamps on either side of the walls. The flooring had the rails of a train as if some machine used to travel to wherever.

“Where do we go now?” Rocket asked.

Cheshire shrugged, turning back and forth as he tried to choose the path. Rocket kept quiet. As the silence grew longer, Rocket noticed a faint ticking coming from south of where he faced. He closed his eyes and focused on the sound. It wasn’t his imagination.

“I think we should go there,” Rocket pointed behind Cheshire.

The cat looked to where Rocket pointed and he just had to ask the raccoon why.

“We don’t know where we’re going anyway,” Rocket said, “Besides… I have a strong feeling that we should follow that ticking sound.”

Cheshire reacted immediately. “Ticking sound?” he asked and then focused himself. “I can’t hear anything.”

“It’s there,” Rocket convinced. “Let’s just walk the path. Maybe you’ll hear it once we’re closer.”

Having not so sure where to go either way, Cheshire agreed and they made their way to south.

The hall was bright and curvy. It spared no space to be dark with its lamps within the walls in rows and columns. Above them was a complex entanglement of wires and pipes supporting the metallic floor at the first level of whatever section.

They walked for quite some time now and yet the cat still couldn’t hear the ticking sound which made Rocket doubt if the sound was really there. It bothered him, as they walked, that the sound gets louder and Cheshire still couldn’t detect it. Between them, Cheshire had the keener hearing.

Deeper into the path they walked, Cheshire finally reacted.

“I hear it,” he said, halting with his ears moving to the sounds. “It’s familiar… like I’ve heard it my entire life.”

“You think you could guess what that is?” Rocket asked, “And why did you just hear it now? It was clear even back there.”

Cheshire just shrugged and closed his eyes, recalling where he’s heard the sound. “I think… it’s near the border of Wonderland—by the end of the Tulgey Wood where your ship landed. I think,” he emphasized to show Rocket he wasn’t sure, “It’s the enormous clock that changes the Tulgey Wood every now and then.”

A dangerous idea struck Rocket. He wasn’t sure of it since he didn’t know the geography of Wonderland but currently, they were underneath an underground laboratory. They were in the changing clock’s level. He went to the walls and ran his hands against the structure. It wasn’t compact. It was built for changing.

The Cheshire cat became curious to Rocket’s sudden enthusiasm and with the raccoon’s expression, it didn’t seem too good.

“What are you doing?” Cheshire asked.

“We’re in danger…” Rocket mumbled. “I’m not sure but tell me if I’m wrong. Above us is the _Tully_ wood, right?”

Cheshire corrected Rocket inside his mind but just nodded. He folded his hands, “Why?”

“Look at the structure of these walls and then look at this railing.” Rocket pointed.

Cheshire gazed at the structure and saw that the rail had small branches connected to the walls. He ran his hand on the metal structure and noticed that the walls weren’t fully attached to each other. It could easily be detached and removed. Perhaps the rail wasn’t used for an actual transportation machine. Perhaps it was what moved the walls to change.

“Curse that looney,” Cheshire spat. “I thought it was a genius idea to build an underground section underneath an underground section but this is just pure idiocy. Why would she build something like this?”

“So that none of her labs could be invaded again,” echoed a voice from a turning corner.

Rocket acted by reflex, instantly taking out his bazooka. He aimed it at the corner, charging a projectile.

Cheshire thought that the voice was familiar but he had his guard up nevertheless, extending his metallic claws.

A jolly laughter echoed from the corner and then from there, peeked out a hatted head.

Rocket shot immediately and the mad hatter’s head withdrew the instant. The electronic blast exploded against the wall, leaving an ashen splat marked on its body.

Cheshire pushed aside Rocket’s weapon with his hand and looked at the raccoon sourly.

“I got overexcited,” Rocket alibied and strapped his weapon on his back.

“Come out, Tarrant, it is fine now,” Cheshire called.

Out peeked the hatted head once more and then he giggled frivolously. “I never thought I’d see you again, Chess…” he came out and marched elegantly towards the duo.

Cheshire approached and when they were face to face, he pounced on the mad cyborg, embracing him. “How were you able to find us?”

“Well, I had a speculation that you might still be alive,” Tarrant said, “Having seen the Crims palace still standing… well, not standing but standing still, one piece, crumbling, almost standing—”

“Hatter!” Cheshire interjected.

“Fez…” He gasped and shook his head. “I took that chance in finding you.”

Rocket hated being out of the conversation. And he hated it more when he was being left out of place. He walked closer to Cheshire and pulled the cat beside him. “I hate to break your reunion—actually, I don’t but may I remind both of you that anytime, we could get sliced by these walls.”

Cheshire shook Rocket’s hands off him and approached the mad hatter once again. “I suppose you know the way, out?”

Rocket interjected, “Of course he does. How else would he have been able to come here otherwise?”

“Still cranky as always,” Tarrant remarked as he looked at Rocket with a pouting mouth and though as Rocket wasn’t there, he whispered loudly to Cheshire. “I still don’t understand how you came to love this fellow.”

Rocket snarled. “I could hear your failed whisper, idiot!”

Tarrant chuckled and pointed at Rocket. “I said it quite loudly.”

“Is that how yo—”

“Rocket that’s enough,” Cheshire interjected.

“What about him?” Rocket gestured to the mad hatter. “He’s the one being rude here.”

“No, it’s you who’s being rude.”

Rocket grunted and folded his arms. “Just get us out of here,” he spat.

Tarrant took off his hat and used to it present the way. “If you would follow?”

Rocket scurried ahead though he didn’t know where to go. There was only one path and it couldn’t be more obvious where they were supposed to go.

***

The mad hatter and the Cheshire cat conversed the whole time they walked. Rocket was ahead of them, arms folded on his chest. He mumbled as he walked, spitting every once in a while to the unwanted vibe the duo behind him created. They were going in the right direction, Rocket thought and they didn’t need the mad hatter at all. It’s not like the path was complicated. There was only one way to follow. He hated hearing the joyful laughter of the couple behind him. It sounded annoying.

“Could you two hurry up?” Rocket didn’t even look behind him. “This tunnel is making me claustrophobic and you guys merrily skidding there isn’t helping at all.”

The duo paid him no mind and Rocket bit his lip having been ignored. He stopped on his tracks and turned behind him. Impatience was written on his face, contempt by the tight clasp of his teeth. A light growl bellowed in his lungs as the duo paused to ask what made him stop.

“How did you even find us in the first place, you hatted weirdo?” Rocket snarled.

“Don’t talk like—”

“Shut up, Smiley!” Rocket growled at Cheshire and then turned to the mad hatter. “I was surprised that smug-face over there didn’t know about this tunnel. How did you even get here?”

Tarrant was silent and serious for a moment before chortling his way out of Rocket’s cornering question. “How I got here was through an entrance, obviously.”

“Don’t screw around with me!” Rocket’s voice echoed throughout the tunnel. “Where is that entrance? How did you know about it?”

Cheshire walked over to Rocket and tried to calm the raging raccoon but he was easily pushed aside.

Tarrant kept his face straight and only his eyes glowered down to the short raccoon. He wet his lips a few times. “What do you have there on that sling-bag?” he asked, “It’s been bothering me for quite some time now.”

“Don’t change the subject!” Rocket yelled.

The mad hatter walked over to Rocket and bent down.

The raccoon growled.

Tarrant reached in for the sling bag with his metallic hand. Rocket responded aggressively, biting the hand that approached but found that his teeth clasped against metal. The sling bag he wore was immediately in to the mad hatter’s possession.

Tarrant got up and opened the sling bag. “Oh my…” he looked at Rocket. “What ever are you planning to do with… these?” he took out three circular metals with complicated wires attached to them.

“Give them back!” Rocket jumped to retrieve the radiators but he couldn’t with the mad hatter’s size. He only noticed a petrified feline whose eyes were shockingly fixated on the metallic devices.

Cheshire’s breathing was readable to his heavy inhales and exhales, to his diaphragm moving constantly. Rocket felt a surge of guilt course through him as he witnessed the face of fear written on Cheshire’s face.

The cat’s legs trembled and his fur bristled. A terrified meow cried inside his lungs as Tarrant held the radiators in the air.

“You should close your bag well,” Tarrant placed the radiators back inside the sling-bag, “I was only able to glimpse at its edge yet I already knew what it was. Where did you even find these?”

Rocket wasn’t interested in the bag anymore or the mad hatter. He walked over to Cheshire and grabbed the feline on both shoulders.

Cheshire jutted upward with Rocket’s sudden contact. His eyes were wide open, pupils constricted and fixated to the air where the radiators couldn’t even be seen anymore.

“Chess… look at me,” Rocket whispered.

Cheshire tried but his eyes couldn’t settle elsewhere. He quivered for moments but he was able to look at Rocket nonetheless. “W-why do you have those?”

Rocket opened his mouth to speak but no voice came out. He swore that he knew what he was going to tell Cheshire once it was time but his rehearsals inside his mind were all but it was—just inside his head. Rocket breathed.

He let go of Cheshire and walked back.

“Alright…” his face became neutral. He walked ahead and faced the twosome. “I retrieved those so what you have on your back could be replaced. I retrieved those so that you wouldn’t have to be unstable anymore. I retrieved those because I thought you wouldn’t be complete if you weren’t… you.”

Tarrant coughed and looked at Cheshire.

The cat seemed to have grabbed ahold of his self now. He looked at Rocket, forcing himself not to cry. “You know Alice made me be this way and you’re pushing for what she wants?”

“Yes,” Rocket answered blatantly. “I know what you’ve been through. I saw all of it. I could try to understand but that’s as far as I could go. I was experimented on too…not as much as you but did you ever think…” Rocket paused to make sure Cheshire listened. “Did you ever think how stupid it is to stop at something that endangers you all the time?”

Cheshire bit his lip.

“Why stop at something that could kill you? You know what Alice put in you were prototypes. Why stop there?”

Cheshire nodded his head. “Because I’ve had enough of it,” he said under his breath. “In every experiment, I kept on wishing that I die. I told myself if I could escape, I would and when she put these on me,” he referred to the tech bulging out of his back, “Escaping became possible… so I did.”

Rocket sighed. “There is no good reason in why I retrieved those for you,” he chuckled wryly and pressed his palm against his forehead. “I only got those so you wouldn’t leave me behind,” Rocket gritted his teeth and though he wasn’t aware of it, a tear had already escaped his eye. “Because getting left behind sucks! It’s pathetic being left with memories to haunt you every day, making you think you could have done something to keep that person yet why didn’t you?”

Cheshire looked down.

Rocket continued, “This is me doing something to keep you. I don’t want to be separated from you like I was with Lylla. Do you know how much that fricking bothers me?” Rocket yelled. He was laughing and crying at the same time. “And if you really want to go, then Alice isn’t the one you should be running away from.”

A loud chime echoed through the entire hall. The trio had to cover their ears just to block the massive ring. The floor beneath them grumbled and the walls began to shake. Seconds after, the rail was glowing. Both walls on either side of them detached like puzzle pieces. All in synchrony, the walls tilted at a hundred-eighty degree angle and moved to the main rail.

Rocket had to jump and evade the moving walls that were moving like crazy. More paths were unveiled which was hidden behind the walls as everything around them shifted. Tarrant and Cheshire were nowhere in sight as it was every man for himself in trying to survive the moving walls.

Rocket grabbed hold on top of one of the walls that moved to the main rail and he rode it to wherever it was supposed to go. The shifting was finished in a minute. The last wall that moved on the rail, which Rocket rode, positioned at the end of a hall where a slanting platform stretched outside.

Fog loomed from the exit and Rocket followed it to a place so familiar—the landscape which underneath rests a giant clock—the Tulgey wood. He was alone and he didn’t know if he should get back inside the secret passage to search for Cheshire.

His decision was cut short when in the heaven projected a gigantic holographic image of a pink-skinned woman with curls of blonde hair.

“I see my dear pets have raised the flag of war,” the sound echoed throughout the entire forest—the entire country perhaps.

Rocket guessed that the woman was Alice. It could be nobody else.

She continued, “If freedom is what you so desperately seek, then come fight for it. I shall spare no one in the spilling of blood…. Jabberwocky.”

The projection stopped and the Earth beneath Rocket grumbled. The ticking of the clock underneath hastened and the whole forest began to move again. Rocket thought of getting back inside the secret passage but found the entrance had already closed up.

The ground parted in half and as fast as a lightning spit, a gigantic figure dropped towards the sky. It moved too fast for Rocket to comprehend what it was but its silhouette gave Rocket all the time he needed in trying to guess what the creature was.

It must be the Jabberwocky, Rocket thought as he looked at the winged beast concealed by the grayish clouds above him. It bellowed—a terrifying screech not even a thousand Bandersnatch could rival. Purples hues of lightning spat out from the Jabberwocky’s mouth, turning the canopy of grey clouds into a storm of miasmic gases.

It rained fire above as the beast made its way into the clockwork town, wreaking havoc.

Although the sound of destruction dominated, Rocket could still hear the voices of despair, people perishing.

Not long after the Jabberwocky’s appearance, the earth beneath him grumbled once more but it was just subtle as if the source was somewhere far away. Moments after the tremor, glowing red eyes were lined in the distance and the vibration of heavy, synchronized marches stomped.

It’s an army of cards—too many to battle.

Rocket went down on all fours, running the opposite direction where the cards were headed. The Frabjous day, which the caterpillar spoke of… perhaps this, was it.


	24. Frabjous Day

Terror struck the hearts of the queens as well as their recruited warriors after Alice’s declaration of war. More of them were baffled by the beast that emerged from the Tulgey wood, painting the sky to a dark purple color. Not only has the beast tweaked atmosphere’s appearance, it also changed its behavior. Lightning spits kissed the ground every once in a while which made it difficult for them to move freely in the marsh.

“My queen, the war has begun and the beast had flown to the Clockwork town. How ever are we going to get there in time?” Baeley approached Mirana.

Iracebeth caught their attention, pointing to the spacecraft that was piloted by the small dormouse. “There, sister!”

Mallymkun arrived just in time the warriors were rallied. The small dormouse too was terrified of Alice’s sudden declaration of war. Frabjous day was now. Mallymkun veered the ship to approach the ground though not completely as it would get swallowed by the marsh.

He opened the base and laid out ropes which the warriors could climb on.

In lines, the warriors climbed until each and every one was boarded. Baeley and the queens went inside last. To the pilot’s area, the queens and Baeley headed.

“Where to, your majesties?” Mallymkun asked. “Should we gather the Tweedles?”

“No, Mallymkun,” Mirana said, “We go to the Clockwork town.”

Iracebeth protested immediately, “Sister, we must not! It’s risky!”

Baeley seconded, “I agree with the red queen. We’ve no weapons to fight off the beast yet.”

Mirana thought for a while, looking out of the ship’s windowpane that revealed the beast’s figure spitting lightning against the houses of the town. “Drop me off to the clockwork town, Mallymkun and thereafter take the rest to the Tweedles’ coordinates.”

“Sister!” Iracebeth protested. “You cannot simply face the Jabberwocky alone… unarmed!”

“I cannot, Racy,” Mirana swallowed, “and I will not. I am only going to salvage as many people as I can. You and Baeley are to lead these men into war once they are equipped with weapons.”

“My queen, if you are to let me, I shall accompany you,” Baeley offered.

“You must not, Baeley,” Mirana said. “These men believe in you. They look up to you and if you’re not there to lead them… what good would the weapons they’ll have be?”

Iracebeth breathed. “Then let me come with you, sister.”

Mirana was about to protest but Iracebeth didn’t give her the chance.

“Most of these men do not recognize me as a leader,” she said. “Most of them think I executed their comrades and it would do them no good thinking a villain is fighting on their side. At least you’ll be able to save more people with me around.”

After Iracebeth’s reason, Mirana simply nodded to agree.

The ship flew unusually. It wasn’t the dormouse’s veering that had them off their balances all the time. Lightning spits would sometimes strike them and the clever little pilot was keen on evading.

When they arrived at the Clockwork town, the two queens got off the ship.

“Though we don’t have the power,” Mirana said her last words, “We will try what we can in weakening the Jabberwocky.”

Thereafter, the ship ascended back into the sky and glided away to as far as their eyes could see.

The queens turned to their backs and nothing more than shock and awe met their faces.

The metallic houses were destroyed. Those made of wood were set ablaze as hundreds of people perished in the distance. The Jabberwocky was always somewhere in the sky, swooping down to grab an unsuspecting victim and flinging him to the air. The victims would either land dead or severely injured.

The robotic citizens of the town had their eyes glowing red and turned against anything Alice set to destroy. Those very servants that created music boxes or baked breads or woven cloths now had their tools as their weapons, slashing fleeing citizens. The agonizing sound of cries was now what made the town distinct not the ticking sound anymore.

The Jabberwocky vanished into the sky after a successful spit of lightning. Thereafter it swooped down on the ground once again and the queens had to bend down just to evade its tackle. It breathed lightning, striking ten people at a time. It gave no mind to its robotic allies. It too was destroyed in its wreaking of havoc.

“Sister…” Mirana swallowed, trying to fight the paralyzing fear creeping up on her. “Supposed you would have preferred the previous resets than this one?”

Mirana nodded to disagree. “Do not think of such things, sister…it’s what Alice wants us to think so we would surrender. Waste no more time… we must save as many people as we can.”

Mirana sprinted towards the destruction zone but was grabbed by her sister on the arm. “Be safe…” Iracebeth let go and then went to split up with her sister so they would be able to save more people.

***

From the infirmary’s window by Marmoreal, the Jabberwocky’s destruction could be witnessed vividly. Thackery’s playtime was interrupted when he witnessed the grey sky turned purple, masking Wonderland with darkness. He’s been watching for quite some time now—face pressed against the glass pane, googly-eyed—as he watched the Jabberwocky wreak havoc on the clockwork town.

“Tea time?” he mumbled over and over again to himself.

Not long after Alice’s declaration of war, citizens of Marmoreal began crowding inside the palace’s courtyard. Different people—cyborg and animalistic—all wearing white gowns and dresses, white tunics and jumpers claimed sanctuary to the white queen’s abode.

Thackery watched as the people increased in number, counting them with his quivering finger. “One… two…three…four…ten…twenty…fifty…” then remarked to himself. “We won’t have enough teacups for the crowd!” He pulled his ears down as it was the biggest dilemma he faced.

The palace’s gate and drawbridge was closed and the white palace’s guards cornered the citizens, compressing them to a circle. Cries of anguish filled Marmoreal palace as the ivory citizens began ‘turning red’, according to Thackery.

“Tea…time?” Thackery whispered to himself as he watched the palace guards poke their spears and one ivory citizen would fall on the ground, coloring the marble floor with crimson.

He witnessed as other people began to flee but was shot down, if not, impaled by a palace guard which robotic eyes glowed a bright red.

Thackery’s nose stopped twitching as the last standing citizen fell to join the pool of blood. Thackery watched the pile of bodies fill the marble flooring with red liquid. It ran to the garden of white rose bushes. Oh how a white rose could be colored terrifyingly with just a few splashes of red.

The infirmary door was locked. Mctwisp locked it before he left but it was forced open by the palace guards. As the wooden door parted, two columns of guards marched inside with long lances, surrounding the exit.

Thackery trembled, looking quietly outside the window then he turned in an instant. “You’re all late for tea!”

One horse-guard marched over to Thackery and held his lance with two hands. He poked to stab but the March hare side stepped and grabbed the wooden body of the lance. With one strong pull, he disarmed the robot and used its weapon to skewer its head with one strike.

More guards approached with lances and Thackery tossed his own weapon like a javelin to the closest one. He jumped against its body to set it off balance and grabbed another disarmed spear on the ground.

Two guards stabbed downward at the same time which Thackery evaded with a high jump. Once landed on the floor, he climbed on top of one of the guards and pulled its head off. Livewires sparked as the robotic guard ceased to function.

From the infirmary’s entrance, came in guards with guns much to the mad hare’s amazement.

“Pretty guns…” he remarked and the guard shot him.

Thackery evaded and jumped in the air high and random, taunting the guard to shoot and with every electric projectile shot none hit the March hare. Thackery then approached the guard and dismembered him with a quick ride on the back. He grabbed the energy blaster thereafter.

He backtracked slowly, shooting one projectile at a time which hit every approaching guard. More and more corrupted robots approached until Thackery already reached the other end of the room which was the gigantic glass window.

He chortled.

As the guards closed in, he shot the window behind him. It rained glass, some scratched the hare as it fell but Thackery didn’t mind. Without a full grasp of reason, he jumped out of the window, landing on a hedge that cushioned his fall.

Palace guards shot him from the window but the hare was too unpredictable—moving in ways always too curvy to have a clean shot.

The mad hare made his way in the garden of white roses, not minding the pile of bodies just to his left. He noticed blood when his foot squelched in crimson mud. He continued to the wall of the palace and began shooting a hole in the wall. It took him few projectiles but he was able to escape before the guards with spears closed in on him.

And towards the clockwork town, Thackery went for the arson fading to the sky was calling him.

***

Rocket didn’t know where he was going. Nor did he know where he was in the first place other than it was the Tulgey wood’s border. He kept on running the opposite direction where he saw the army of cards approach until he noticed that the land began to dampen.

Distances more, his hands and feet weren’t just running on dirt. He was already squelching on mud. The fog lessened but the environment became wetter. The sight of gigantic trees in the distance became clear and Rocket headed towards it.

There was much difficulty in trying to move through the quagmire and Rocket began panicking in fear that he might get caught. He was able to move out nonetheless. He hid behind a mossy tree and sat, back against its trunks.

He breathed deeply and rested the back of his head against the wood when he hit something hard. He caressed his head and looked behind him to whatever bulky structure hurt his head. Camouflaged in the moss was a nailed plank. He traced above it and found another one and another one on top of the other.

It didn’t take him long before he realized that it was a ladder leading somewhere.

He peered above him but failed to witness something other than the leaves rustling with the wind. Taking his chances, he climbed just to escape whatever army was about to approach. Each steps on the ladder took him higher until he was at level with the leaves and shortly after, above it.

He rested on the platform where the ladder ended where just about everywhere structures of treehouses were. There were few people—too few in sight. And Rocket was dumbfounded as he walked around. Carefully, he walked on a plank leading toward another platform that housed a gigantic building.

There was the faint sound of bells ringing in side and Rocket followed the sound with his eyes. The jingles emanated from thin, metal wires glimmering with the faintest light. Rocket then approached the biggest building.

He parted the tassels of vines and came in a saggy-looking bloodhound sitting on a chair.

The bells inside the structure rang simultaneously, never ending but the bloodhound was idle on his chair—too idle. Rocket had to peer on the old dog just to see if he was breathing. He was… but that didn’t eliminate the doubt if he was conscious or not.

“My son…” the bloodhound spoke, “Went to fight a war he’s going to lose…”

“D’ya said something?” Rocket asked.

The bloodhound opened his eyes just to look at the raccoon and then closed them again. “Hurts losing him… hurts losing all of them.”

Rocket sat on the wooden floor. “If you’re gonna talk in puzzles, don’t talk at all. I already have a lot going on inside my head and I don’t want you to add more of it.”

The bloodhound just kept on talking. “If you knew he’s walking straight to his demise, would you not stop him?”

Rocket groaned and rolled his eyes. “It’s not the first time he’s ever done that to me,” Rocket said to himself. He and the bloodhound were totally on different matters but he found that their situations were somewhat similar.

Rocket said out loud, “There’s nothing you could do more if he wants to die. Just grant him his wish.”

The bloodhound whimpered. “Do you think it’s just right to let him die?”

Rocket sighed. “I tried stopping him…” he wrapped his arms around his legs and buried his snout on his knees. “Of course it’s not right to let him die even if it’s what he wants but… what can I do? What can we do?”

“I tried too hard in stopping him… now he’s out there, probably dying…”

Rocket shrugged. “Maybe your son doesn’t have to die if you go to him.” Rocket’s own words got to him and as he continued, he realized that he’s also giving himself advice. “Perhaps he’d listen if you show him that it’s not just about him or you… it’s about both of you—all of you.”

That was it. That was what Rocket lacked. He only thought too much of Cheshire for his own benefit—so that he wouldn’t be alone. He never thought about Cheshire’s part combined with his. He was too selfish to see it.

“You should fight alongside your son,” Rocket got up in a hurry. “Protect him… protect each other.” He went out of the building and climbed down the same ladders he used to get up.

He knows where to go and what to do however… it wouldn’t be as simple as he thought.

By the edge of the Tulgey wood, glowed lines of red dots with the silhouettes of marching cards. Rocket took out his bazooka and calibrated it.

“No stopping now…”


	25. The Xandarian Looney

The screams were faint but clear. That was what could be made up from the tubular tunnel Mctwisp travelled. The floor was a crosshatch of metal wherein below projected aqua lighting that rose up like dots of laser pointers to the ceiling. From Mctwisp’s point of view while being inside an underground stronghold, the lights from the dotted spaces of the crosshatched floor seemed like tall sticks extending high above him.

More and more as he approached the stronghold of the almighty warden, the faint screams above were synchronized with a much clearer and louder version. He hated hearing it. Those were the sounds of lives being taken, souls in deep anguish—people in hopeless peril. And every sound of it that resonated inside his ears was a thorn to his heart.

But no, Mctwisp convinced himself. The lives being taken above didn’t deserve sympathy for when Alice prevails all the dead would come back to life including his dear, dear, Cheshire. That’s what he had in mind. That’s what he reinforced inside his self for the betterment of his friends. Once everything is reset, it’s a fresh beginning for everybody. Perhaps they needn’t leave the planet at all. What’s there for them in the galaxy anyway when they’re wanted criminals in death rows? They would be much safer in Alice’s care.

Mctwisp reached the tunnel’s end which was a vaulted door of thick adamantium. He knocked a few times, not to get a response but just to test the structure of the indestructible metal nonexistent within other universes. He was amazed of Alice’s wit, creating the loop in a dimension existing between two universes—where they exist yet do not exist at the same time. He began to appreciate Alice’s idea and accept the utopia she tried to create. If only the others could see how wonderful Alice’s intentions were, they would never want to leave.

Mctwisp gazed at the giant door and above its frame he saw a camera pointing a laser at him.

“Alice… I come to pledge alliance with thee…”

The camera’s head tilted slightly lower and its lens zoomed at the white rabbit, snapping close and then back open. In a few moments, the door grumbled and from the line that separated two parts, cracked open the door. A disturbing cacophony of voices in peril met Mctwisp’s face in a gust of wind that blew his ears back.

The entire lair was dark except for in the distance where holographic projections were settled midair. For each region of Wonderland there was one rectangular hologram that showed the destruction and chaos that was happening above. Sitting on a high throne was the Xandarian looney. Alice relaxed back against her throne, one leg crossed on top of the other with an amused smirk rising at the corner of her mouth as she watched the multiple projections presented in front of her.

On her left, projected the image of Salazen Grum, overrun by cards slaughtering citizens. Below that hologram was another screen showing the meadow of living flowers being mutilated by the fearsome Jubjub bird. The Clockwork town, being reduced to ashes, was dominated by the Jabberwocky. Alice gave out a playful chuckle as she watched the queens risk their lives to save other people.

A shot of worry shot Mctwisp when he saw the queens running in the mid of blazing buildings, rescuing citizens. He hid it all inside his façade of fidgeting fingers and indirect eye contact.

As he approached, Alice didn’t even bat an eye to him. It was as if he wasn’t there at all and though he tried his best to gather the attention of the Xandarian scientist, he was ignored the whole time.

Mctwisp swallowed as he came closer to the base of Alice’s high throne. He dared not turn his head behind him lest he see the tragedy that was happening all around but he had to if he wanted to get Alice’s attention.

The very first holographic screen he witnessed was the white palace in Marmoreal. The camera was placed at the courtyard where the marble floor, oh so white as its queen’s hair was now as red as the red queen. It was gruesome having to look at the pool of crimson liquid drying up within piles of bodies.

Just below the projection of the white palace was the white village—a place in Marmoreal where the white citizens resided. The small town of ivory was much worse compared to the white palace’s courtyard. Chess guards marched in squadrons, knee-down saturated with blood. The tips of their lances drooped with the crimson liquid as they continued to wipe out the residents. Bodies were everywhere—piled on top of each other, some still twitching with life and some, slowly dying.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Alice commented.

Mctwisp gritted his teeth out of contempt but he swallowed it all for his intention. “I cannot say for sure, your majesty.”

Alice laughed wickedly. “Do not call me ‘your majesty’,” she said, “For I am no queen.”

Mctwisp was slightly startled by the echo of Alice’s laughter repeating inside the vast lair. “What would you like me to call you?”

“Call me Alice as that is who I am.” The pink-skinned looney kept on watching the chaos projected on her screens and she didn’t look at Mctwisp as they conversed. “War is beautiful…” she remarked, “I almost forgot the face of it just after one reset.”

“W-well… it’s hardly war if the other side isn’t fighting, no?” Mctwisp retorted. He hid away in a sheepish laughter and added in an instant, “D-do you plan to wipe the slate clean?”

Alice shrugged. “The slate is always wiped clean,” Alice said lamely. “And it’s all because of that stupid outsider.”

“Outsider?” Mctwisp repeated for Alice to continue.

“You’ve met him,” Alice said, “You’ve even attempted to remodify him. I’ve seen all of it. I’ve been watching all of you the whole time. Which is why I know you’ve come here to assist me in wiping the slate?”

There was a punch of breath that pushed Mctwisp to exhale as if Alice’s idea wasn’t synonymous to his intention. Before he could respond, Alice spoke again.

“I know you’re planning to help me win this war so that everything may reset and you will have the love you always yearned for.”

Mctwisp was about to ask if Alice knew but he stopped himself. Of course she does. She knew everything about them. Nothing was left private from this scientist. Besides having them memorized physically, she also had them memorized mentally.

“You are wise to come here,” Alice said. “Normally I would have just blasted you where you stood on that entrance however… I am in need of your assistance.”

Mctwisp swallowed. “A-anything… Alice…”

“I may have been watching all of you this whole time but I always play safe. Even if I know I’ll win, I would still grab any opportunity to ensure that victory. Listen to me well, my white rabbit, tell me the war strategy of your friends so that they may be countered. I may have eyes everywhere but I do not have eyes on the outsider’s ship. Perhaps you had a discussion while out of my radius that I might want to know about?”

“None… Alice,” Mctwisp said. His mannerism of fidgeting his fingers worsened, becoming much faster and rougher until he thought of discussing the plan they had in the infirmary. “We had our strategic meeting in the infirmary of the white palace.”

Alice’s brow rose up. “I’m surprised I haven’t noticed that part. Perhaps I was elsewhere then…”

“Aye…” Mctwisp paused, having doubts if he should tell Alice. At this point, he had no other choice. He turned behind him and forced himself to look at the gruesome screens. When he noticed that what he searched for wasn’t there, he turned back to Alice. “West side of Wonderland, inside your stolen lab, the Tweedles are making weapons to supply the warriors which will then head straight for the Clockwork town.”

Alice grinned widely. “I see you can be trusted,” she remarked and pressed buttons from the arm of her throne. Quickly, another projection shot up midair showing the Tweedles piling weapons inside metallic carts and loading them on a high-flying aircraft.

The Xandarian pressed more buttons and then the projection became a navigational map showing the coordinates of the Tweedles. With a few more presses on buttons, Alice sent battalions of Chess guards and card soldiers to march toward the abandoned lab.

She turned to Mctwisp thereafter. “Do not worry about them, my _friend_ , for they will die today and be resurrected tomorrow as your love will be as well.” She pressed another button and suddenly the whole lair was lighted up. She pointed to the left side of the giant room.

Mctwisp turned.

Standing upright attached to a machine was a robot in the shape of a man. His eyes were open, displaying aqua pearls but dead of consciousness. He had a beard of thick sideburns connecting to the moustache with a peculiar, tall hat covering his top. He dressed rather quaintly with pointed shoulder plates in black attire. What was most shocking about him was his core. In place of his sternum was a ticking clock and beneath it, an emerald glow emanating from the fraction of the time gem.

Wide-eyed and awed, Mctwisp didn’t notice Alice press something behind the neck of the robot and suddenly the robot’s eyes sparked to life and he was detached from the machine.

Alice laughed. “Meet Time.”

“Time?” Mctwisp echoed.

“Time…” Alice stared hungrily at her creation. “I’ve made him countless times but I could never perfect him… now, he is perfect.”

Mctwisp had a lot of questions in mind and the Xandarian scientist knew which is why she spared the white rabbit from asking many questions.

“This utopia cannot be complete if it just resets after the Frabjous day,” Alice said. “As I’ve mentioned earlier, this loop wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for that outsider.” She bit her lip. She clasped her teeth in contempt, obviously frustrated about the raccoon. “You are close with Tweedle Dee, are you not, Mctwisp?”

Mcctwisp nodded once. “Both Tweedles… Alice…”

Alice clicked her tongue. “How much do you know about this loop?”

Mctwisp thought for a while. “All that is it would repeat over and over again.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be that way,” Alice said the moment Mctwisp finished. “I had no intention of trapping us inside a time loop but I had no other choice because of that outsider… Rocket was his name, wasn’t it?”

Mctwisp nodded.

“Since what I possess is but the fraction of the time gem, controlling it is very difficult. Countless times I’ve made Time,” she gestured to the robot, “The loop wasn’t purely intentional. It was supposed to happen once only but I found that I couldn’t control the time gem either… now, however,” she chuckled, “I can and we will reset one last time before we rejoin the _real_ world.”

There was something wrong, Mctwisp could feel it. “Is it still possible for us to join the _real_ world?” he asked. He hoped that he and Alice were on the same matter—on the same point of view in talking. He continued. “When you created the time loop, we ceased to exist on the original timeline.”

Alice became solemn and she looked at the white rabbit suspiciously.

“Which means if you reset, taking us back on the very first day you put us on this planet, you cannot break the loop because where would we return? We cannot be our past selves in the present, can we?”

Alice pocketed her hands and grabbed a piece of crumpled paper. “You lack imagination, Mctwisp,” she said and then gestured to Time. “Show him.”

Alice outstretched the paper toward the robot. Time’s eyes glowed and the hands of the clock on his sternum ticked rapidly. The three hands of the clock spun with amazing speed and the paper wilted and became dust.

“Did you see my hand age, Mctwisp?” Alice displayed her hand, still young and strong.

Mctwisp nodded to disagree.

“I do not totally disagree with your thought,” Alice smiled. “It’s possible—what you said and it’s also possible—what I presented. I don’t fully understand the volatility of the time gem’s fraction. In the end, it all depends on its mood whether it permits us to join the present timeline or traps us all in this loop forever.” She paused to take in a deep breath. “What do you think?”

“The raccoon… Rocket,” Mctwisp clicked his tongue. “He exists in the present yet he is here…”

“I’m surprised Dee hasn’t told you,” Alice smirked. “The Rocket that you see here is just a phantom of the first time this all happened. He’s just something that registered here because of the time gem. He’s already long dead—hundreds or thousands of years dead. If your friends manage to break this loop, you would all return to the present which is already centuries from your original time.”

Mctwisp fell back a few steps and then dropped on the floor.

Alice returned to her throne and then shut all of the holographic projections but one and it was the screen that showed Tarrant and Cheshire inside her lab in Crims palace. “Your Cheshire cat is alive,” Alice said. “And he’s as keen as your friends in breaking this loop so that he may unite with Rocket in the present but he doesn’t know what I told you and the Tweedles kept from him so that he may participate in this war.”

Mctwisp hopped back up standing having heard Cheshire’s voice, hoarse and weak. He was inside some section, back facing Tarrant as they conversed.

“Knowing we are in a loop…” Cheshire said. His voice was filled with sorrow in the echoes of the lair. “…makes me want to defeat Alice even more so that I may be able meet him without consequences… be with him without a limit...”

Mctwisp’s breathing became irregular as his heart felt as though as it was being crushed by a fist while he listened to the Cheshire cat’s sentiments.

“I don’t care where in the galaxy the time gem would spit us,” Cheshire said.

Tarrant replied, “I don’t think it works that way.” The mad hatter carried a small sling-bag with him and some intravenous with various surgical materials. He laid it all on a table as he unzipped Cheshire’s jumpsuit from the back.

Alice couldn’t help but look bemusedly at the duo.

“Well… however it works,” Cheshire grimaced at Tarrant examined his injured back, “I want to be with him.”

“You won’t be able to…” Mctwisp found himself replying to Cheshire despite his message failing to reach the feline. Alice then shut the projection and turned to the white rabbit.

“Break the loop, you’ll have him for yourself,” Alice seduced. “If the time gem returns you to the present where Rocket is long dead, you’d have no competition.”

“Are you provoking me?” Mctwisp sobbed and wiped his nose with his forearm. “Do you wish me to side with my friends?”

“Of course not,” Alice shrugged. “I am merely showing you that you could trust me. I would never hide anything from a _friend_. I reckon your friends never hid a thing from you?”

Mctwisp was provoked but he was provoked to side with Alice firmly. He found that he could trust his tormentor more than his own friends who hid essential truths from him.

“Wipe your worries away, _friend_ ,” Alice chortled. “Once we prevail, you’ll have what you want and all of you could live in my perfect Wonderland.”


	26. Resolution

They ended up, by mere luck, alive to another one of Alice’s sections one level above the shifting walls. The cat and the cyborg, exhausted from their previous evasion of slicing boards, took rest on the checkered, tile floor of wherever they wounded up in.

It was dim but not totally dark and with just enough focus, images of objects inside the room could be made up. It was dead quiet as well which Cheshire decided was a good thing because it meant that no danger like the Bandersnatch prowled nearby. Once caught up with his breath, Cheshire walked to the edge of the room and cupped for the light switch that lit up the entire room.

The section seemed to be an office previously occupied by one of Alice’s many compatriots. By the edge of the room was a working-desk—a light tan of brown with pewter lining the edges. There was a swivel chair before it, the backrest extending high like that of a throne’s. The walls behind the table mounted a bulletin of gruesome imagery. Distorted anatomies of animals and humanoids were tacked in the bulletin. Regions of the bodies were encircled with a red marker as if whoever was the scientist behind that horror had an unfinished plan. Thank goodness, he wasn’t able to finish it.

Moreover, across the working area by the edge of the room was another door with a wide viewing glass beside it. The other room could be an operating section, Cheshire thought. Though he wasn’t familiar with the entire Crims laboratory, other than his cellar and operating room, it was a common requirement for offices to have surgical rooms. Behind that door, Cheshire was sure of it, lie the vengeful souls of the unlucky ones that didn’t survive the tortures. One… ten… twenty… the number just goes on.

“This isn’t a very pleasant room,” Tarrant said.

Cheshire was reminded that he wasn’t alone. He was too focused that he forgot the mad Hatter was with him. He replied. “This whole laboratory isn’t very pleasant…not many good memories. Actually, not even one good memory of this place. I remember roaming the halls strapped in a gurney, if not, a wheelchair going from one room to another.”

Tarrant chuckled wryly. He stood up and walked behind the table. Pulling the swivel chair, he took a seat and tampered with the folders, pretending to work.

Cheshire watched him and never had he seen someone, especially his friend, look so taunting. It could be that Tarrant was humanoid and any being of humanoid figure could impersonate a cruel scientist working for Alice like the one that died in the genetics section.

“Tarrant…” Cheshire realized that his hands closed to knuckles. “Would you be so kind as to get yourself away from that desk?”

Tarrant’s eyes only looked up to Cheshire nevertheless he kept on flipping the folders. “I guess you got my message.” He closed the folder and set it aside.

“Message?” Cheshire repeated.

“Implication.”

“I don’t quite understand…”

Tarrant frowned. “I thought I could just bury all this but… it turns out, if a memory is still alive, it could dig its way back to the surface.”

Cheshire had an idea but he denied it. He couldn’t and he wouldn’t accept that absurd idea coming inside his head. It’s impossible. He found himself nodding unconsciously to his denial of a gruesome speculation.

Tarrant nodded up and down, contradicting Cheshire’s action. “This used to be my office…” Tarrant stood up and looked at the entirety of the room—from the cream ceiling, to the metallic walls and down the checkered tile floors. He planted his hands on top of his desk and leaned forward, matching his gaze with Cheshire’s. “I used to be one of who we all hate.”

“You’re jesting, Tarrant, are you not?” Cheshire laughed the words out. “It’s hardly amusing.”

Tarrant nodded sadly—a disagreeing gesture. “I wish I was.” He swallowed.

Cheshire, still, denied. “You and I were cellmates. How could you have been working for Alice if we were both her guinea pigs?”

“It was when Alice found out I’ve been helping my subjects flee,” Tarrant said. “A few days before you were taken in, she took away my arm and replaced it with this,” he held up his creaking misery of a technology. “And quickly I became one of her lab rats.”

Cheshire chortled and pressed his hand against his forehead. Quickly thereafter he broke into frivolous laughter. “What a way to quickly become a prisoner.”

Tarrant sighed. “If only I had been more convincing in my paperwork, she wouldn’t have noticed my subjects were still alive even after expiration. Then again if my record reaches a percentage of above fifty percent death rate, she would have experimented on me anyways.”

Cheshire was laughing. “I thought you were just really good at cybernetics and surgery.”

“There’s no doubt with that,” Tarrant retorted.

“And that also explains how you knew about that secret passage,” Cheshire added. “But… why did you keep it until now? That’s what Rocket exactly wanted to get from you.”

Tarrant shrugged. “I sensed that your fellow has a low sense of reason. If he knew, I would no longer be breathing.” He inhaled then let it all out. “Speaking relatively…” he placed the sling-bag on top of the desk. Although it was impossible, Tarrant knew Cheshire was frowning. He added, “The decision is yours and I apologize for provoking a lovers’ quarrel between you two.”

Cheshire quickly flushed and hid it away by turning his back on the mad Hatter. There was a long pause before he finally replied. “Do you think I’m selfish?”

Tarrant’s eyes darted to the ceiling and then to the cat whose back was turned on him. “At first I thought you were,” he answered frankly, “Always disappearing…saving your own skin but after what you pulled above there…not so much.”

The corner of Cheshire’s mouth lifted slightly higher. “Not with that…” he whispered but still loud enough for both of them to hear. “Rocket…” he bit his lip, “Before I even knew, I was already aiming for him.”

Tarrant’s brows centered to his face. “Knew what?” he asked.

“That he’s a broken spirit,” Cheshire turned to Tarrant, his eyes of twinkling plea. “He’s a gentle soul hiding away in this calloused mask you all know him of. When I first saw him, I only had one thing in mind—that he will be my last pleasure before I vanish completely but…” Cheshire laughed and refused to continue.

“But what?” Tarrant was keen and pushed the shying cat to proceed.

Sheepishly, Cheshire continued. “It’s pathetic…” he said, “But I love him?” it came out more of a question than a statement. He added instantly, “I felt like I know him but I don’t know him…”

Tarrant raised a brow, indicating that Cheshire elaborate.

“The first time I touched him felt so familiar,” the cat was lighting up, “His rude behavior toward me is less offensive and more playful in perception,” Cheshire lifted a finger to hush the about-to-protest mad hatter. “And when I realized that he fell for me, not because of my pathetic attempts but because he longed for something he lost, I’ve already fallen deeper into him.”

“You asked me if you were selfish why?”

“Because I took advantage of his damage and used it to get him…”

Silence ensued for a moment—nothing but the clogs of Tarrant’s clockwork arm ticking by the seconds. The mad hatter retreated on his swivel chair and crossed his leg on top of the other. “Is that how you perceive your relationship with him—nothing but a reenactment of a past that broke him?”

“It’s as plain as that,” Cheshire said, “No more and no less.”

“Then tell that to Rocket’s face,” Tarrant swiveled left and right. “You truly loving him, there is no doubt about that. Him truly loving you, he could only tell himself. Now why don’t you and I go ask him that?”

Cheshire took a moment of silence before walking up the table. His attention was on the sling-bag. Funny—how he never questioned Rocket about the content of the bag when they were with each other. And now, he’s taking one piece of the perfect technology he refused to put inside him.

“I wanna ask him.” Cheshire took out the new radiators from the knapsack.

Tarrant stood up and walked to the other end of the room. Pressing a button beside the door, the other room was lit up. It was the first time Cheshire saw an operating bed without having the slightest fear. He followed the mad hatter inside taking slow steps on the cold floor. He always thought it was a stupid design to color the walls and floors white. After every operation, it would always be streaked with blood. Sometimes, if the subjects were calm or dead, the floor would have a pool of blood. If the subjects struggled, the walls would be streaked with it—disturbing prints of hands sliding on the glass and floor leaving a crimson trail. Most of the time, it would be splashes tainting most areas. The painting of blood always depended on the obedience of the subjects.

Tarrant placed the knapsack on one of the tables and searched the room, recalling where he’s put what which he doubted was still in its exact location having years out of Alice’s service. The room was left as it was, however.

“You don’t have to put me to sleep, do you?” Cheshire asked.

“I believe I have to,” Tarrant said, “Unless you want to savor the pain.”

Cheshire sighed. “I don’t want to sleep…”

Tarrant looked over his shoulder to Cheshire and then he got back under the table and pulled out an unlocked crate. “It’ll be tremendously painful and I can’t have you struggling all the while I tamper with your insides,” he said as he laid out various surgical materials from the box.

Cheshire chuckled. “I’m just afraid I won’t wake up.” He hopped on the operating bed and caressed the cold armrests.

“You will,” Tarrant said, “You’re in the hands of the greatest surgeon there ever will be.” He walked behind Cheshire.

“Knowing we’re in a loop,” Cheshire said, “Makes me want to defeat Alice even more so that I may be able to meet him without consequences…be with him without a limit. I don’t care wherever in the galaxy the time gem would spit us.”

Tarrant went back to the table. “I don’t think that’s how it works.” He carried a sling-bag with him and some intravenous with various surgical materials. He laid it all by a wheeled table beside the operating bed. He unzipped Cheshire’s suit and was slightly taken aback to the horrendous sight of wounds healing wrongly and damaged radiators which wires were cut and metals were coated with dried blood. He ran his fingers on the metals.

Cheshire grimaced. “Well, however it works, I want to be with him.”

“This is the second time you’re undergoing your greatest fear for that fellow,” Tarrant remarked, not taking his eyes off the messy back.

“As I had said before, I’m doing this for all of us,” Cheshire’s smile was real. “And I think we should join the war as soon as possible.”

Tarrant laid Cheshire flat on the operating bed. “Aye.”


	27. First Clash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I made another related fanart of Rocket and Cheshire. I've been practicing a lot on drawing which is why I could rarely write. Also, school work is in the mix but hopefully after the exams, I could go focus on the story. It's near its end anyway.

<http://sanjiyu.deviantart.com/art/No-One-is-Here-692836846> 

 

There they were in the distance, approaching closer by the minutes. What could be made up at the current was the bright glow of their eyes. Their synchronized marches that shook the earth stopped when they exited the Tulgey Wood and into the marsh. It was a squadron—no, an army of flat, limbed robots carrying sharp lances with them. They moved at the same pace, not one lagging or moving in advance as if they were all a singular organism. Only that they weren’t.

Rocket held his ground. His bazooka was blankly at aim in front of him. He had no specific target except that it should be the army but how could he target an army? Unless he had a much larger gun or a ship, ideally, there was no way what’s about to come could be ended with one shot.

They approach much closer now. Their legs sunk deep into the mires but were hardly snared. Their movement, still, was of perfect synchrony. Rocket let loose one projectile into the sky, its trajectory aiming for the first line of cards. He succeeded in breaking a small radius which was about three to six card soldiers with one shot but the numbers were barely touched.

The cards kept marching and behind them followed more from the Tulgey Wood. Rocket muttered a curse and randomly fired to the air. The army of cards was his canvas but his damages were but dots. Nevertheless he kept on firing.

For each exploding projectile, card soldiers fell but hardly stopped. The robots showed no hesitation and kept on marching, walking on and over their fallen comrades. Their movement was constant and hardly aggressive which favored Rocket currently however he wouldn’t be so lenient if the soldiers come in pointblank range. Slowly though, it was happening.

The steps before the card army close in on Rocket could be counted by the hands and the raccoon had to take one step for every shot he took. He backtracked a few times as he pulled the trigger until he was specifically targeting the cards which came too near.

Rocket was drawn back to the swamp but he kept on fighting. He bombarded the area with bullets and blasts, battle-crying as he did so but he could only stop so many. He grew tired while the robots just kept on coming. One card soldier approached Rocket too close and the raccoon had to force his strength to lift his weapon up and shoot the enemy. Another one came in thereafter and once again, Rocket fired.

When the third soldier approached, Rocket thought he’d finally go through a spear but the card soldier simply marched past him… as did the others that came after it. Rocket looked behind him—to the soldiers that walked past and then back in front of him—to the soldiers that were just approaching.

Why weren’t they attacking?

They just marched. And Rocket had to get out of the way lest he be walked all over on by the docile army. He climbed a tree’s trunk midway to observe the enemy units.

For minutes, the march kept on and from Rocket’s point of view, the red soldiers looked like a wave of rubies passing by. Not long after that, the battalion stopped. They were still but the sound of marching kept on. The group past Rocket’s tree didn’t stop… only those behind it.

Now that was suspicious, Rocket thought. He climbed down the tree and began to inspect, walking over to one of the card soldiers. Fine material, Rocket noticed but lame designs. He stared at the soldier, its eyes still glowed which meant it was active. And yet it was immobile.

He tapped the flat exterior of the robot and that’s when its head turned down on him. The other soldiers’ heads turned to Rocket in successive waves—one line of cards after the other until their focus was solely on the raccoon.

This is bad, Rocket thought. He took a few steps back. The card soldier nearest to him gripped its lance and thrusted forward. Rocket fell back, his rump thudding against the soft ground. Half of the spear was eaten by the mire and the card soldier struggled to retrieve its weapon. Rocket hurried back to his feet as the other soldiers were now aiming for him.

He only thanked God that all the soldiers were short ranged… he thought too soon.

A projectile was shot. It didn’t hit him but it brushed past his fur, making it stand up from the current. An electrical shot, Rocket knew. He searched for the source of it and found card soldiers wielding guns not far behind the ones wielding lances. His luck ran out when the first battalion ignored him. _This_ was his fight.

Rocket retreated back to the trees, using them as shields for the long ranged ones. He was already exhausted from earlier and he didn’t know how much stamina he had left to keep on fighting. As much as the situation allowed it, he didn’t waste much energy on the cards that were short-ranged. He focused all his energy on the real threats which were the long ranged ones.

The forest, dead quiet the whole time, was suddenly singing the melody of zapping guns and exploding projectiles. It was one vs an army and even though Rocket could outsmart the bots, their number was his disadvantage.

Rocket kept falling back until eventually he was surrounded. There were no more trees that could shield him. The soldiers were around him, leaving no area he could escape to.

This is it, Rocket thought, death by idiots. It hit his pride more that he would be killed by stupid robots. What a humiliating way to go.

The army closed in by marches and Rocket kept fighting till he could no longer breathe… but he was rescued.

From the sky rained arrows.

It hit the soldiers nearest to Rocket. The arrows were dull or the soldiers were much harder. The projectiles that did successfully land on the cards were deflected, except for the ones that hit a joint or the eyepieces.

Three waves of arrows rained and after that, a faint battle-cry resonated inside the forest. The clanging of metal against metal added to the cacophony as did the sound of livewires spurring out of life. The wind blew strong, shaking the leaves to applaud Rocket’s savior. Figures midair was in the distance and quickly came warriors swinging on vines with clubs and maces.

They swept down, bashing cards on the head. The numbers were now reduced. Rocket watched as the red soldiers fell and sink into the mud. Their numbers, which he hasn’t scathed, dwindled rapidly.

From one of the vine-swingers, rode down the bloodhound from earlier. He stood beside Rocket, his face neutrally calm.

“With or without weapons, we will fight,” the bloodhound said.

Rocket wiped off the amazement in his face and smirked, calibrating his weapon. “What took you so long to come up with that?”

The bloodhound shrugged and behind him, he took out a small gun. “I’m not letting the last of my pups die in the hands of Alice. Whoever you’re tryna’ protect, protect him.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” Rocket smiled.

Together, they joined the fray.

***

Mallymkun had no idea where to go. He didn’t know about the laboratory Mirana stole from Alice. It took him quite some time before he finally asked Baeley where they should go.

“Uhm,” he coughed sheepishly. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the laboratory is, would you?”

Baeley seemed to have been in a trance had he jutted up slightly when Mallymkun asked him. “It’s more of a factory actually,” he said.

“Factory?” Mallymkun repeated. “So you do know where it is?”

“Certainly,” Baeley said proudly and then his tone lowered a bit, “I’m one of the warriors that fought to invade it…”

Mallymkun scurried to the control panel of the ship and searched for the navigation map. “Your sacrifices will play a big role in this war,” he said as he looked for the map. The dormouse wasn’t convinced that the ship was of current galactic technology. It seemed old or was just really crappy. Considering that it came from Rocket, he expected that it would be much more convenient to use. That or the raccoon rented the ship from a cheap dealer. Rocket did seem a bit stingy.

Mallymkun ran over a radar that flickered and he guessed, though he was not very sure of it, that it was the map. Perhaps this is it, he thought as he pressed his foot on the damaged glass. The map flickered, displaying their coordinates before shutting off completely.

“Work!” the dormouse yelled and jumped on the map. The radar blinked and then finally ceased to function. Mallymkun groaned.

“Perhaps I could be of assistance,” Baeley said.

Mallymkun stood back and waited for the bloodhound to fix the map but Baeley didn’t even get up from where he sat.

Mallymkun coughed to get Baeley’s attention. “You were gonna fix it?”

“Oh no,” Baeley replied. “I meant veer the ship closer to the ground. I know the lands.”

“Right…” Mallymkun trailed off. He scuttled back to the seat too big for him and began pushing levers with all his might. He jumped back to the control panel, adjusted a few settings and then he was at the veering stick of the ship.

Baeley watched with amazement as the small mouse operated the controls much larger than the mouse’s size. Baeley didn’t even understand how the ship worked. It’s his first time riding one and he only knew one other dog familiar with this level of technology—his father, Bayard. There were memories of him along with his brothers and sisters, pleading for their father to tell them about the life in space. They were curious about what it was like living outside a planet. Bayard always seemed to have kept to himself, only mentioning the good times.

Baeley and his siblings dreamed of riding a ship or shooting with laser guns but they all knew it wouldn’t be possible. At such young ages, they were already aware that they were prisoners of this planet but they grew up dreaming. They trained under Bayard with what material they had in hopes that one day, a rebellion might happen and they would be ready.

Mirana’s proposal was what they thought would be Alice’s downfall so they fought and they won…or so as the white queen declared. Alice simply named the event Horunvendush day. Now, however, was different. It’s the Frabjous day.

“Baeley…” Mallymkun alerted the dreaming bloodhound. “We’re below the clouds… where to?”

Baeley shook his head and peered outside the ship. “Just head straight… we’ll see a small dome—grey in color—that’s the surface of the factory.”

Mallymkun nodded and increased the speed they were going. He observed Baeley thereafter. “What seems to be bothering you?” the dormouse asked.

Baeley simply looked at the dormouse.

“I don’t mean to intrude but you could tell me if something ails you,” Mallymkun said.

Baeley smiled wryly, just stretching the corners of his mouth to rise. “It’s my first time riding a ship…” he said quietly. “My siblings and I thought this was a dream we could never achieve… I wish they were here.”

Mallymkun scurried to Baeley’s seat. He placed his small hand on Baeley’s arm and caressed him. “Would you like to give this ship a go?”

Baeley’s eyes widened. “I-I can’t…” he stuttered. “I don’t know how…”

Mallymkun chuckled. “It’s easy. I’ll teach you.”

Baeley was about to stand up but Mallymkun stopped him, saying, he needn’t leave his seat to pilot the ship.

“Before I give the controls to you, there are a few things you need to know,” Mallymkun said.

Baeley swallowed. He felt nervous and excited but more on the excited part.

Mallymkun continued, “First you have to know that everything you need to control the ship is all in hands’ reach…” he paused and then corrected himself, “Your hands’ reach.”

Baeley observed the armrests of his seat and just realized that various controls were there.

“Some ships, like this one,” Mallymkun jumped to the control panel, “has this old stuff—they’re just adjustments and maps. It’s not really necessary anymore. I have a strong hunch this unit is a rental.” He commented. “Anyway, slip your left hand into that round thing on your armrest.”

Baeley followed.

“You’ll grip a vertical rod inside,” Mallymkun said, “That’s how you veer the ship. And on your right armrest, is a thrust-lever. It controls the speed of the ship.”

Baeley placed his right hand on the lever and waited for Mallymkun’s instructions but none more came. “Is that all?” Baeley asked.

“That’s all you need to know if you want to fly a ship,” Mallymkun said.

“What about these other controls?”

“More complicated,” Mallymkun said the moment Baeley finished. “The left armrest is more on controlling the ship and the right armrest has weapon features.”

“This ship has weapons?” Baeley exclaimed. “How do I use them?”

“Not for a beginner,” Mallymkun replied and before Baeley could protest, he added. “You’re still not controlling the ship, Baeley.”

Baeley became quiet. He took a few deep breaths. “Alright… I’m ready.”

Mallymkun went back to the first seat. “I trust you, Baeley,” he said and then pushed the lever that transferred the controls to the second pilot.

The whole ship shuddered and the warriors riding behind were startled.

When the controls were transferred to Baeley, he felt the whole ship become him. From the ship’s pointed nose to its tail, he suddenly felt connected to it. He gripped his left hand and slowly tilted the vertical rod left. With just a subtle tilt, the whole ship veered left gently.

Mallymkun watched Baeley with caution, stationing at the lever that transferred the controls so that he would be able to salvage them should the situation require it.

Before Baeley even realized it, he was already smiling wildly. “This is none other than I’ve ever experienced before!” he shouted.

“Focus, Baeley,” Mallymkun said just to be safe.

Baeley experimented, veering the ship left and right. The sensation of riding it was ecstatic and he wondered if this was what it was like to live in space. His father must have enjoyed himself extremely.

“We’re losing speed,” Mallymkun said. “You have to keep pushing the thrust-lever minimally to maintain our speed.”

Baeley noticed that the thrust-lever kept pulling back down when he wasn’t pushing it. Out of curiosity, he pushed the lever fully on top and the ship dashed with amazing speed.

Inertia pulled him back against the backrest of his ship and it threw the little dormouse on his own seat.

“Reduce speed! Too much thrust!” Mallymkun yelled.

Baeley’s reaction time was delayed of instant change and he wasn’t able to reduce speed immediately. They fly swiftly in the air and Baeley’s attention was in front of him to the obstacles. They were at level with the hills and plateaus and without Mallymkun veering the ship. It was likely that they crash into one of it.

“How do I make the ship go up?” Baeley yelled.

“Lift the vertical rod up!” Mallymkun shouted back but it was too late. They were in the range of the towering plateaus.

Baeley swallowed all the fear and doubts he had of controlling the ship. He focused on what’s ahead and began evading the structures that would lead to their gruesome demise. Twin plateaus were ahead and the only way past it was between it.

Baeley breathed and estimated his turn. Not too close and not too far, he turned the vertical rod horizontally and the ship tilted a hundred and eighty degrees, going through the plateaus. Baeley was relieved but it wasn’t over yet.

They were in the gorge—the valley of stone towers which meant if he doesn’t find a chance to rise above it, he’ll have to go all the way through it. The spaces become much narrower and Baeley had to be keen with the speed they were going at.

For every approaching plateau, Baeley steered the ship with nothing but reflex and instinct guiding him. He was able to evade but not perfectly. One plateau grazed the side of the ship, slightly changing their course but Baeley won control back easily. He didn’t find a chance to go above the stone towers but he succeeded in going through it.

He reduced their speed to a smooth glide in the air.

“How was that?” he said excitedly, the wag of his tail, restrained by his sit on the seat.

“I knew I could trust you,” Mallymkun raised a quivering thumbs-up.

The excitement on Baeley’s face vanished when he realized they were above the Crims palace… rather, the ruins of it.

“Mallymkun,” Baeley said. “What happened to Crims palace?” he asked, “Did Alice destroy it?”

Mallymkun wobbly jumped to the control panel and walked to the glass where he saw the red queen’s palace, fragile and crumbling. “Tarrant…” Mallymkun said under his breath, “Chess!” he exclaimed.

Baeley was confused.

“The palace is still standing, Tarrant was right, Chess might be alive,” the dormouse became hysterical but he stopped himself. He had a mission of his own and he knew that he couldn’t leave it to Baeley alone. Baeley and the Tweedles need him. Although he wanted to confirm if his friends were alright, he couldn’t risk their chance on this war. “You know the way to the factory…” he trailed off, “Take us there, Baeley.”

“We went past it,” Baeley said, “But I know a shortcut in the Tulgey Wood—past the marsh.”

As Baeley turned the ship around, Mallymkun could only look and hope that his friends were okay. He’s already worried enough for the queens.

***

Baeley noticed something below them as he flew the ship to the factory. It was a line of red soldiers. It was war so it was nothing to be surprised about but he _was_ surprised at the direction the card soldiers marched.

“Mallymkun,” Baeley said. “Do you have a way to contact your friends in the factory?”

Mallymkun nodded to disagree. “Why?”

“Look below.”

The dormouse scurried to the glass pane and noticed an army go the same way they were headed and then he saw the dome structure Baeley described earlier. He estimated their odds. If they continued to the lab, they would have the weapons but they would also be cornered. If they don’t, they’ll have no weapons and the Tweedles might die.

“Are you aware of the situation?” Mallymkun asked.

Baeley swallowed, “I am…I await your decision.”

Mallymkun thought for a while. “I can’t risk the warriors…”

“Mallymkun,” Baeley said. “Whatever your decision will be, I will follow it but let me just say that these warriors with us all came to risk their lives for this war. We will fight to the end.”

“You’re very noble as your warriors are,” Mallymkun said. “I think I may have a plan. We go to the factory.”


	28. The Perishing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for not updating often. I'm getting really busy lately. Anyway, I'll try to finish the story the next time I go online.

As the town grew brighter, it grew quieter. It could be of the Jabberwocky’s succeeding havoc _or_ it could be the queens’ rescue. Mirana rallied the surviving citizens to a safe route, directing them to the forest side where it was safe while Iracebeth kept the Jabberwocky’s sight out of the fleeing citizens.

It was difficult to move around with the blazing buildings. They were in the middle of a giant campfire, radiant with heat that could singe should ever they approach a burning source. Mirana did everything in her ability to salvage as much citizens as she could. And she succeeded, somehow.

The people were in panic and were irrational to be talked out of so Mirana could only lead those that still had a sense of reason out of hysteria. She could only save those that idly hid underneath carts, or those that accepted their fate and passively waited for the Jabberwocky to burn them. The desperate ones were the first to go.

The Jabberwocky was in the sky, vanishing above the purple clouds and descending rapidly to spit lightning. Iracebeth kept provoking the creature, throwing whatever she could so that its target would solely be her. She had no strength but she did have fast reflexes. Just about when the Jabberwocky would swoop down to get her, she would always tumble out of its claw’s reach and ready herself again for another evasion.

Her attention was also divided to her sister that leaded a crowd of citizens to an unburning route. They were able to rescue many people but not as many as those that died. Lightning flashed twice in the sky, displaying the silhouette of the ghastly dragon above the clouds. It spiraled in the air before diving towards Iracebeth.

The red queen anticipated another grab but she was caught off-guard when the Jabberwocky breathed lightning. She jumped out of the way, mere inches from the lightning shot. Her hair stood up from the current just as the ground she once stood at exploded from the lightning’s contact. Once again, the Jabberwocky disappeared above the clouds.

Thunder drummed in and the orange hues which covered them turned darker just as the purplish clouds thickened and almost turned black. The arson that faded to the sky was a bright mix of orange and red with sparkles of fire riding the wind.

It became much more difficult to spot the Jabberwocky’s location now that the clouds thickened. Iracebeth had to squint and be fast to observe the sky through the slightest milliseconds the lightning offered… but even with lightning, the Jabberwocky could no longer be seen.

It was quiet above other than the thunder and howling wind arguing. Amid the cacophony of burning wood and collapsing buildings, Iracebeth heard a desperate cry—faint and blended with the noise but audible.

“Help!” the voice shouted.

Iracebeth swallowed, keeping her eyes to the sky. She was afraid that if she looked back, the Jabberwocky would get her.

“Help!” the voice became quieter but no less desperate.

It pained Iracebeth and after hearing the plea, dying for salvation, Iracebeth turned behind her.

It was the same painting of blazing buildings with dead carcasses everywhere—some burnt, some mangled.

“Anyone! Help!” And the voice was coughing out of life.

Iracebeth turned to Mirana’s direction. She was no longer in sight. Without wasting more time, Iracebeth ran to where the sound was coming from. She leaped over dead carcasses, evaded glass that exploded from the fires and stopped to listen. It was quiet.

“Where are you?” Iracebeth shouted.

Faintly, the voice replied again, “Over here…”

It was difficult to spot anything with the brightness of the fires but Iracebeth spotted motion not far from her. It was a waving hand. Quickly, she ran towards it.

A fat woman was belly flopped on the ground with half of her body covered by metallic debris. Iracebeth ran to her and knelt on the ground to inspect how she could get the woman out.

The woman’s life was fading. Iracebeth could hear her breaths become slower.

“I’ll get you out of this,” Iracebeth said, not knowing how. She touched the metallic debris that rested on top of the woman’s lower half and immediately pulled her hand away. It was hot. She tried pulling the woman out of the debris but she was stuck albeit not completely. Iracebeth felt a slight budge and with just the right amount of carefulness, she could get the woman out safely.

“Tell me if it hurts,” Iracebeth said as she encircled her arms on the woman’s belly.

Not long after, the woman was tapping her hand on Iracebeth’s foot simultaneously.

“Does it hurt?” Iracebeth asked.

With enough effort, the woman gasped. “B-behind…”

A loud thud came behind Iracebeth, startling the ground. Then heavy stomps came behind her. She didn’t need to turn to know it was the Jabberwocky but slowly, she looked over her shoulder.

The dragon wasn’t machine after all as she had assumed. It was a genetic abomination. The beast was flesh—ashen scales covering its whole body. Its wings were a gigantic cloak with thumbs of sharp nails puncturing the ground as it walked. Its tongue hissed in and out through the gap of its serrated teeth.

It stared at Iracebeth with its snake-like eyes, breathing mist out of its nostrils. It screeched with a current of wind that blew Iracebeth’s hair back. The red queen landed on her rump and backtracked crawling until she was leaning on the hot metal debris.

The Jabberwocky opened its mouth, displaying strings of purple saliva that hung like vines from one tooth to the other. A purplish glow emanated from under its throat, sparking below the uvula. It would be a direct hit that won’t leave a body. It would turn Iracebeth to ashes.

Before the Jabberwocky could shoot its lightning, electric blasts hit it at the side of the dragon’s head simultaneously. The Jabberwocky was sent off-balance and crawled away, taking to the sky once more.

Iracebeth pulled in a breath of relief and watched as the projectiles shoot to the sky, targeting the fleeing dragon. She followed the source and not far away from her was the March hare wielding a gun.

“Thackery…” Iracebeth was glad.

“It’s James actually,” the March hare replied without a trace of madness in his voice. “Get her out of here. I’ll distract the dragon.”

Iracebeth didn’t spend a second more. She pulled the fat lady out from the debris and just like coming back to life, the woman heaved in a deep breath. She was a cyborg, Iracebeth realized. Half of her body was no longer flesh but a miserable unicycle with a damaged tire.

Iracebeth helped her up but the woman could hardly balance herself.

“I could still move,” the woman’s voice was shaky. And though it wasn’t true, Iracebeth nodded her head to agree.

“Able or not, I will save you,” Iracebeth said.

She helped the woman balance herself. Iracebeth placed one of the woman’s arms around her neck and the other she kept on the woman’s waist. Iracebeth looked around for a safe route. The woman pointed.

“Across my inn is a forest,” she said.

Iracebeth looked but the path was between two burning buildings. There’s no way they could pass without getting burnt but it’s their only option.

James’s focus was on the sky with his gun at aim in case the Jabberwocky swoops down again.

“If we could sprint, we could make it,” Iracebeth said, “But you can’t even move.”

“I’m sorry…” the woman cried.

Iracebeth looked around but it was as if they were cornered inside. “This isn’t Salazen Grum so I don’t know my way around here but… you are from here, are you not?” she asked. “You have to think of somewhere else we could go to.”

The woman calmed herself. “The town’s entrance,” she said. “If anything would be burning there, it would only be the arch and if it still hadn’t collapsed, we could make it through.”

“Alright, where’s the town’s entrance?”

“Far behind us.”

They both turned. Iracebeth could make out the arch and it really was far from them but if they want to get out alive, they have to move now.

“James, let’s go,” Iracebeth said.

“Walk ahead,” the March hare replied, “The dragon could show up again anytime.”

Iracebeth forwarded. She carried most of the cyborg’s weight. The tire was flat and its interior was all mangled and deformed. They moved quickly but no less slowly with the March hare a safe distance behind looking out for the Jabberwocky.

The red queen’s eyes fixed on the arch of the town. It burned as any other building but she kept on praying that it let them pass first before collapsing.

The Jabberwocky didn’t return. They were fortunate but at the same time they were suspicious. The atmosphere just became ominous other than it already being chaotic. Whatever doubts they had, they kept to themselves and just became grateful that the beast wasn’t rooting for them anymore.

When they arrived at the arch, Iracebeth doubled the amount of effort she exerted, eager to get out and at the same time afraid that the arch would collapse.

“Hurry now,” Iracebeth said and the opposite was what the cyborg seemed to have done.

The cyborg became reluctant and tried moving away from the arch.

Iracebeth understand shortly when she saw an army of white soldiers marching towards their direction. They were already under the arch. The wooden pillar that kept it standing was slowly collapsing. They only had two options: to go back or push forth.

The red queen risked getting back inside the burning town.

“James!” she yelled.

The March hare’s ear rose up alertly to the red queen’s direction.

“Collapse the arch!” she shouted just as she returned from the wooden arch.

The March hare had no time for questioning. The first line of soldiers was almost in. Quickly, James shot the pillars of the burning arch. It cracked—its miserable sound resonating with the crackling fire before collapsing on the first line of soldiers that tried to enter.

The rest was blocked outside. Iracebeth, James and the cyborg were safe behind the wall of burning debris but they were cornered inside the town.

Iracebeth sighed in relief, almost relaxing when she got startled at the sudden movement of the collapsed arch before them. Under it, the white soldiers still functioned, clawing in the air and crawling on the ground.

On top of the burning wall, the white soldiers climbed and marched past as if there was no barrier after all.

“Fall back!” James ran in front of Iracebeth and started shooting the soldiers that came under the rubble. They were still safe as the soldiers that arrived were equipped with lances. Their only true threat was those that possessed guns. The soldiers could easily be outwitted but their number was what made them threatening.

James remained at the front, letting Iracebeth escape with the cyborg. He made sure that the soldiers lock-targeted him so that his friend could flee. As the numbers kept on coming, James began backtracking. Eventually, his gun would run out of shots and he would have to resort on running but that also worked.

Gathering the attention of the soldiers, James leaded the army out of Iracebeth’s direction.

***

Rocket sighed in relief as the last card soldier sank in the mud. His weapon, which he had no trouble carrying, suddenly weighed a ton and he had to strap it on his back for he could no longer lift it to aim. There were few of them; Rocket realized when the bodies standing could be counted by the mind. They were scattered in the swamp, fatigued.

The bloodhound approached Rocket, placing his own weapon by the holster behind him. He was panting with an open mouth, tongue dangling.

Rocket made a face but didn’t comment. He was tired… too tired to even be himself. Instead, he commented about the first battle.

“Do you think it’s over?” he asked.

The bloodhound closed his mouth, looking around his standing soldiers. There were already few of them when the battle began and fewer they stood now that the first clash had ended. “It’s over for here,” he said. “There are lots of territories in Wonderland. This is but one.”

Rocket rolled his eyes, annoyed of the fact that their victory was negligible. He sat on the damp mud, too exhausted to give a damn about his tidiness. “Then how do you suggest we win this war?” Rocket asked again.

“We defeat Alice—”

“Great,” Rocket interjected, “Where do we find her?”

The bloodhound coughed. “That, I do not know. And that,” he raised his voice to prevent Rocket from interjecting, “Is not my number one priority.”

Rocket gave an exasperated sigh, once again rolling his eyes. “So winning this war isn’t your number one priority?”

Bayard nodded to agree.

“Then what is?” Rocket almost yelled. “What could be more important than winning this battle?”

“My son,” Bayard whimpered as though as he was a puppy in distress. “I don’t give a bloody-damn about this war. What would freedom be if my son is no longer with me? I might as well just kill myself if ever that happens.”

Rocket massaged his foreheads, taking the time to formulate the words inside his head. “Look,” he began, “I’m no war expert, didn’t want to be in one—who does? But for some reason, I always get myself in one. And if it’s saving the ones you love during war—you guessed it—it’s tracing the source and exterminating it. It’s a simple equation, no difficult numbers.”

Somehow, the words didn’t seem to get inside Bayard’s head. The bloodhound was stubborn as he was old. “With what’s left of my strength, I’m going to my son. You cannot change my mind.”

Rocket groaned, obviously annoyed but he let it out in a long sigh. Primarily, he didn’t know Wonderland and Bayard does. If war is throughout the entire continent, then he’d have no idea where to start tracing the source anyway. He had his best chances in following Bayard.

“Alright…” Rocket wiped his nose and got up. His tail was coated with mud as his rump. “Do you know where your son went?”

Bayard was unsure. “The white queen arrived previously to recruit me and my men for the war. I declined her but my son rallied some warriors with him. The red queen mentioned something about forged weapons.” Bayard’s eyes widened. “They’re at the factory…”

“Factory?” the word suddenly sounded so new to Rocket’s ears. He had the impression that the place manually produced materials so the mass-producing word felt anew. “There’s something like that here?”

“We’re not savages,” Bayard replied and then rallied his surviving men.

To the factory, they go.


	29. Spoils of War

There was no more time to waste when the ship had landed beside the dome structure of the factory. The moment the doors parted open, the warriors ran to the locked entrance of factory as the soldiers—red and white—approached closer.

Mallymkun rode Baeley’s shoulder as they rushed to the metallic door of the factory. Both called on desperately to the surveillance camera, flailing their arms in the air.

Not long after, one of the Tweedles spoke from the radio placed just above the fingerprint recognizer of the door.

“Oh hello there, Mally. Are those the warriors?” the personality of the voice sounded a lot like Tweedle Dum’s.

“Baeley, press that red button by the speaker,” Mallymkun requested and as the bloodhound did, he shouted from Baeley’s shoulder. “We’ve no time, Dum, open the doors immediately. We’re cornered by soldiers!”

The door parted in half, revealing a seemingly endless hall but at the very end of it was another door, lit.

Baeley positioned at the side of the door as he gestured his warriors to get inside. “Make haste!” The bloodhound commanded. When all warriors were in, he and Mallymkun followed. The door behind them closed.

They strode in darkness but it wasn’t difficult as the path was straight and their destination was no other than the lighted door.

Tweedle Dum waited for them at the end of the door, eager to know what was going on outside as they had no surveillance in their perimeters.

“What do you mean we’re cornered?” Tweedle Dum asked. His face was expectant that Mallymkun confirm they weren’t really cornered by soldiers but he frowned as he saw the dormouse’s expression—solemn as war.

“Do not fret,” Mallymkun said, “I’ve got a plan.”

“Alright, let’s hear your plan,” Tweedle Dum replied.

“First, might I ask,” Mallymkun trailed off, “Do you think that door could handle blasts?”

“Door’s made of adamantium steel so only thing that could damage it is the same material,” he paused then added, “Heated.”

Mallymkun sighed with relief. “It’s a good thing I assumed right,” he chuckled. “I’d hand it to Alice, always using the best materials. Baeley, could you get these warriors armored up and weaponized?”

Baeley nervously pointed to himself. Of course there was no other. He just wasn’t sure that he could deal with this level of technology. He wasn’t really born with it. “Uhmm…” he coughed sheepishly, “I don’t think I’d know how the _thingies_ would work.”

Mallymkun nodded his head slowly up and down, reminded that Baeley could hardly pilot a ship. Then he shouted to the men. “Who here among you were born of galactic technology?”

The majority of the warriors lifted their hands with the minority of those possessing youth. They were probably the same as Baeley, birthed in Wonderland.

“They’ll know how to handle them,” Mallymkun told Baeley, “Just have one of them suit you up and then meet us back here. We’ll tell you the plan.”

As Mallymkun turned, Baeley caught his attention again with the subtlest gesture. Mallymkun knew. He noticed that Baeley was shy about his weaknesses so the dormouse himself asked whatever else he might have trouble with.

“I’m afraid that I won’t know how to use the weapons during fights…” Baeley said, “What if I endanger everyone? I’m supposed to be a leader yet—”

“Hush now, Baeley,” Mallymkun calmed the bloodhound. “Remember back at the ship?”

The bloodhound nodded.

“I’ll teach you,” Mallymkun smiled, “and I know you’ll do just fine. Why, you surprised me when you steered the ship. I know you have it in you. Now move along, lad.”

Baeley nodded.

When Tweedle Dum and Mallymkun were alone in the room, Mallymkun asked, “Where’s Tweedle Dee?”

“Oh, we found a spaceport with actual ships at sector zero. He’s scanning them to make sure it’s not bugged. Lucky us if it’s not, we could use ‘em.”

Mallymkun nodded. “If those ships work, we’ve no need for my plan except if at this very moment, we’re breached.”

“Aye… let’s hear it.”

***

Rocket and Bayard with the few marching warriors headed towards the factory. Not long after their travel, the army of enemy soldiers came into their scope. And they had to follow in stealth to observe the enemies.

“This is bad…” Bayard said quietly to Rocket. “They have the whole area surrounded. Alice must have known they would be there… that cunning witch.” He cursed.

“Do you think there are soldiers at the other side too?” Rocket asked.

“Probably.”

“I don’t take probably,” Rocket retorted. “Let’s go find an opening.

Their small platoon travelled around the soldiers, covering a radius. From what they’ve seen, the whole factory really was surrounded. The old bloodhound bet that his son wouldn’t let himself get cornered and that if he knew the situation he would back up.

“I don’t think Baeley would lead the soldiers inside there,” Bayard said.

Rocket was on top of a boulder, scanning the entire area when he spotted his rented ship parked by the side of the dome. “I think he’s there with the soldiers,” Rocket replied. “The last time I saw that crappy ship, one of your friends was steering it. Could be that they used it to transport all the soldiers inside.”

Bayard was surprised. “Unbelievable…” he remarked in a whisper.

“No time to be sulking about that right now.” Rocket climbed down from the rock. “They’re inside and probably couldn’t move for fear that they would get ambushed by these soldiers.”

“What do you suggest we do?”

Rocket chuckled. “I’m surprised you’re open to take orders from me.”

Bayard lifted his brows. “You seem cunning. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Contact your warriors,” Rocket knelt on the ground and began illustrating his plan on the dirt with his claw. “This is the factory,” Rocket drew a large circle and then surrounded it with orbiting lines. “These rings are the soldiers and this is our platoon,” Rocket drew dots spread around outside the orbits. “I recognized these soldiers have a lock-target system. It’s both automatic and manual. That explains why the first batch of soldiers ignored me even as I assaulted them. They were automated for the factory’s coordinates. Someone from headquarters probably noticed that the soldiers were being assaulted which is why he manually had the soldiers lock-target me.”

Bayard nodded, keeping his arms folded on his chest as he analyzed the diagram Rocket presented. “So with that being given, how do you suggest we get an opening?”

“It’s gonna risk your men.”

“They come here prepared.”

“Very well then,” Rocket said. “Our position currently basing on the factory as our point of origin is south. You rally your remaining men and divide them into two squadrons that would create a diversion east and west. Once they begin assaulting the soldiers, let’s hope that someone from headquarters commands the bots to root for your men.”

“It would create an entrance for us,” Bayard realized.

“Yeah, that’s the point,” Rocket retorted sarcastically. “But that doesn’t mean we could just about waltz in the opening.”

“Then we proceed with stealth?” the bloodhound asked.

“Too slow,” Rocket said. “How fast can you run?”

Bayard chortled with pride. “I might be old but I could run from Marmoreal to Salazen Grum without stopping.”

“Good. So let’s move now. By the way, how can you relay the message to your men? You don’t have a radio.”

Bayard walked over the boulder as the raccoon followed. “There are other ways to communicate other than radios, son.” He searched for one of his men that spied on the soldiers. Once he spotted one on the west, he let out a howl.

The soldier alertly turned to Bayard and the rest was complex gestures for Rocket. The bloodhound was spelling with his hands and transporting messages with gestures and imitations of animal sounds. It was impressive but silly to watch all at the same time.

Once Bayard relayed his message to his allies in the west, he walked over the boulder again and repeated the same procedure to an ally eastward. The message travelled like a wayward whisper but unaltered.

“Now what?” the impatient raccoon asked.

“Now we wait for a signal,” Bayard said.

Rocket was curious but he hid it all as he waited for what was about to happen.

A howl came in the west and then in the east. Quickly thereafter, Bayard howled as well and faint battle-cries resonated in polar-opposite directions. From the west and east came small squadrons of men that began attacking idle soldiers.

The robots fell and not long after, they split in half, crowding at the west and east, creating an opening for the raccoon and bloodhound to enter.

“Do we move now?” Bayard asked.

“Not yet.” Rocket estimated the opening for them. “Get your men retreat slowly back to the forest side. The goal is not to wipe out the soldiers.”

Bayard howled long and clear but it had a different tone compared to his howl earlier. The soldiers fell back slowly, making sure that they were targeted by the robots.

“Alright, we run now!” Rocket dropped on all fours and began sprinting.

The bloodhound dropped on all fours as well, catching up with the speeding raccoon ahead of him. They were unspotted but only for so long. Someone from HQ probably spotted Rocket and Bayard for the soldiers closest to them all turned back and marched to corner the bloodhound and the raccoon.

Rocket looked at his left and right where lines of soldiers were closing in with long lances. He growled in annoyance as he slowly stood up on two legs and continued running bipedal. He unstrapped the bazooka from his back and began shooting projectiles.

“Have them open the door!” Rocket yelled as he shot the soldiers that came too close to Bayard while at the same time he protected himself. He wasn’t a fast runner on two legs but at least he could fend for himself.

They were just about halfway to the factory when suddenly, both of them were stopped by a gigantic beast that came from the sky. Rocket’s back was turned on Bayard as he kept the card soldiers and white soldiers at bay but even he was enveloped by the shadow of what he hoped wasn’t there.

Slowly, he turned and saw the bloodhound petrified on his tracks as he was blocked by no other than the Jabberwocky.

Its wings punctured the ground as it seemed to stand its ground. The soldiers kept on approaching and Rocket had no time to be paralyzed in awe. He charged his weapon for a strong ion blast and then he aimed it to the dragon whose attention was on the helpless bloodhound.

The blast seared on its face but hardly did any lethal damage. It was only enough to get its attention solely on Rocket and that’s what the raccoon intended to do.

The Jabberwocky screeched, detaching its punctured wings on the ground as it took to the sky. Rocket’s attention was on the dragon that he forgot about the marching soldiers. One red soldier came too close and was about to stab with its lance but was shot in the head by the bloodhound in the distance.

“Move now!” Bayard yelled as he shot the soldiers that closed in on Rocket, giving the raccoon an opening.

Rocket placed his bazooka on his back and ran on all fours again until he was with Bayard. He stood up and readied his bazooka. Back to back, side by side, they protected each other.

“The thing you did earlier,” Bayard said as he shot a soldier that approached. “It damaged the Jabberwocky…”

“The ion blast?” Rocket asked rhetorically. “It barely got through its skin.”

“But it did damage,” Bayard grunted as he evaded a lance that thrusted forward, grabbing it by the wooden body, disarming a soldier. He finished it up with a headshot.

“The dragon shoots lightning out of its mouth so I assumed electric shots would have no effect,” Rocket said.

“Perhaps it could only tolerate so much… do you think you could overwhelm it?”

“Too much work,” Rocket twisted some knobs on his bazooka. The four mouthpieces of the weapon shut close and were replaced by a singular barrel. “I don’t use shells much since these soldiers are made of metal but since the dragon is made of flesh, let’s see how tough its skin is. I’ll leave the soldiers to you since my ammo is practically futile against them. I’ll handle the dragon.”

Bayard nodded. From the holsters his belt carried, he took out electrical batteries and slipped it in a compartment of his handgun. The small weapon sparked with energy as the bloodhound released masses of electrical shots that exploded on contact.

Rocket aimed to the violet sky. Lightning flashed twice, revealing the location of the dragon angling to sweep them down. As the beast aimed its claws against them, Rocket bombarded it with a rain of shells.

The beast groaned and changed its course back to the sky. It rained crimson—the proof of Rocket’s damage. The raccoon smiled wildly as drops of red soaked into his suit and fur. Bayard protected themselves from the soldiers as Rocket protected them from the Jabberwocky.

The dragon didn’t stay in the sky for too long. It landed on the dome of the factory. It roared before collecting its breath to spit out lightning at Rocket and Bayard. Both anticipated the attack and both got out of harm’s way.

The Jabberwocky flew into the sky and spiraled in the air, targeting the factory with lightning. The dome’s glasses shattered upon the lightning’s contact and not long after, the building was set ablaze.

Bayard was belly-flopped on the ground, getting himself up by his forearms when the Jabberwocky burned the building.

“Baeley!” he shouted desperately, oblivious of the soldier that approached him.

“Behind you!” Rocket yelled.

A red soldier was close to Bayard, too close with its lance pulled back for a full thrust forward.

Rocket bombarded the soldier with shells but little had it done than simply shake the robot. Bayard crawled back but he was too slow. The soldier stabbed with his lance, piercing the bloodhound so deep the spear went through his back.

Rocket’s eyes widened as the bloodhound spat blood.

Bayard held on the wooden body of the spear, keeping the soldier from pushing it any further. He looked at Rocket with his droopy eyes, closing to slits as the life fades away from him.

Rocket didn’t stop. He kept on bombarding the soldier with shots that he failed to notice one sneak up behind him.

With little strength Bayard had left, he took his gun from the ground and aimed it at the soldier behind Rocket. He pulled the trigger, fooling the raccoon that he was what Bayard targeted. Rocket was grateful as watched the soldier behind him fall.

Rocket transformed his weapon as it was and charged for a concentrated laser. He shot the soldier that stabbed Bayard, sending it flying in mangled pieces.

He ran to Bayard and cleaned out soldiers that were approaching but eventually, he’ll be overwhelmed.

“Leave…” Bayard gasped. He trembled for each breath he took and trembled each time he released it. “Take my gun… and save my son.”

“You’re still breathing,” Rocket looked at Bayard for a moment before focusing his attention on the approaching enemies. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Aye, I’m breathing for now,” Bayard coughed blood. “But later I won’t be. At least save my son… please, I’m begging you.” With a shaking hand, Bayard offered his weapon to Rocket.

Rocket swiped the small gun from Bayard’s hand and strapped it on his belt. It was difficult but not impossible to do. He looked back on the bloodhound, sitting on the ground with a spear through him. He didn’t even know his name…

***

“Mallymkun, we’re all ready,” Baeley walked in with Tweedle Dee.

The fat twin was geared up and had a smug look painting his face. “The ships aren’t bugged,” he said.

“They’re not?” Mallymkun’s ears rose up, “Then I see we’ve no need for my plan.”

“Your plan could be a backup in case something unfavorable happens,” Tweedle Dum said. “For now, let’s group the warriors so we could have them board the ships.”

Mallymkun opened his mouth, about to agree when suddenly, the whole factory was rattled. It dimmed right after the shudder and was followed by a ghastly shriek.

“The Jabberwocky…” Mallymkun said under his breath.

Not long after, the whole factory was shaken again and was struck by a terrifying explosion. Glass exploded from top to bottom until the flammable parts of the building were set ablaze.

“The warriors!” Baeley yelled, “They’re at the space port!”

The group hurried to the spaceport where they arrived at a scenario where shards of glass were scattered on the floor with the walls burning. The warriors were unscathed because of their armors but the ships were as good as useless. They can’t even fly the ships out of the factory anymore.

“We’re doomed…” Tweedle Dee swallowed.

“Not yet we’re not,” Mallymkun said. “Baeley, rally the warriors. We proceed with my plan.”

Baeley gathered the warriors and then they meet by the entrance of the factory.

“Soldiers are waiting for us outside. I didn’t count the Jabberwocky in my plan so I made a few revisions. We push outward and once in open space, we spread out.”

“Don’t you think we’ll be overwhelmed if we spread out?” asked one of the warriors.

“You’ve got weapons and armor, use them,” Mallymkun answered. “Originally, we’re supposed to march out in a group, forming a small circle of defense but since the Jabberwocky is out there, we’ll be wiped out with one breath of lightning. Others will not be able to evade with no room to move to so once we go out we—”

“Mally,” Tweedle Dum interjected. “Ain’t that Rocket out there?” he pointed to the screen which surveilled the entrance.

Mallymkun turned to the screen, watching the raccoon fending off warriors while at the same time knocking on the metal door.

“He’s still alive…” Mallymkun said to himself and then snapped out. “Let him in quick!”

Tweedle Dum punched the button that opened the door’s entrance and the raccoon scurried inside. He breathed, back against the door and walked the dark hall towards the lit room where Mallymkun and the others were.

The dormouse greeted him first. “You’re alive…” Mallymkun was surprised.

“What else do you call me?” Rocket retorted harshly but something was definitely down about him. He was rude as he had always been but there was sadness with him—so strong it was contagious.

Baeley reacted negatively, having heard someone spoke harshly to the one he looked up to. “He just saved your life,” Baeley growled.

Rocket looked Baeley straight in the eye and the bloodhound stared back but he could only challenge the fierce raccoon for so long before looking away.

“You look a lot like your father…” Rocket sighed.

“My father?” Baeley asked. “You’ve met him?”

Rocket took the small gun from his belt and then handed it to Baeley, pushing it against the bloodhound’s chest. “He’s the reason why I’m here right now. I couldn’t save him.”

The warriors behind Baeley began whispering. The echoes of, “The chief is dead?” was most apparent.

Baeley clutched the small gun, trying to feel the warmth of his father that was no longer there. He looked down and then he was shaking as the he recalled the last time he was with Bayard. If he had known that it would end like this, he would have at least left with a proper goodbye.

“I understand your grief,” Rocket said, “But now is not the time to mourn the dead. This building’s ablaze and we have to move quick.”

Baeley swallowed all the sorrow for now. He placed the gun on his belt and rallied the warriors with him.

Rocket caught the site of the spaceport with actual ships. It was surrounded by fire but could be salvaged. “You,” he pointed to the dormouse and the Tweedles. “Come with me, let’s ride those ships.”

“But there’s no way out,” Tweedle Dum protested.

Mallymkun agreed, “The area’s surrounded by fire.”

“Those ships are probably made of fine material. If there’s one thing I know about this place it’s that its creator is a meticulous person. I’ve seen her works. Now are you going to come with me or not?”

“It’s too risky,” Tweedle Dee said.

Rocket looked at them pathetically. “You all suddenly forget how to steer a ship? Or you’re just too lousy to maneuver? There are gaps in the dome and the ships are made of steel, what do you have to fear?”

Their faces seemed reluctant and Rocket didn’t have the words to convince them so instead, he obliged them.

“Listen up, everyone!” Rocket yelled. “His father and I,” he pointed to Baeley, “Created a diversion outside. The soldiers are scattered. All you have to do is look out for the dragon. These men and I will look out at you from the air should any threat approach.”

At the end of Rocket’s instruction, Mallymkun and the Tweedles were left with no choice but to ride out in the air.

“If you die without getting out of the dome, you’re all pathetic drivers,” Rocket walked past them, “and you could blame your deaths to me. If you could still blame when you’re carcasses.”

“Unbelievable, brother,” Tweedle Dee folded his arms.

“But we’ll have more power if we have ships so it’s worth the risk,” Tweedle Dum followed.

Mallymkun scurried ahead, climbing the raccoon that casually walked to the burning spaceport. Once on Rocket’s shoulder, Mallymkun asked about Cheshire. “Is he still alive?”

“Who?” Rocket was caught off guard and then he remembered. “Smug-face?” he didn’t sound so enthusiastic. “He might be lousy without his powers but he’s not a full weakling. I’m sure he survived those slicing walls.”

“Slicing walls?” Mallymkun asked.

“Turns out your hatted weirdo friend could be a compatriot of Alice,” Rocket said. “My only fear is that Cheshire is stuck with him…”

“Tarrant cannot be on Alice’s side,” Mallymkun couldn’t believe it.

“I’m not sure, okay?” Rocket said, “I never confirmed it but he knew the lab more than Cheshire or any of you. Don’t you think that would raise some suspicion?” Before the dormouse could add anything else, Rocket stopped by the entrance of the spaceport. “That bloodhound’s father…”

“Bayard?” Mallymkun asked.

“So that’s his name…” Rocket whispered only for him to hear and then he shook his head. “He wanted to save his son. He’s the reason why I’m here and why the soldiers are scattered out there. He came here solely for his son—wanting to save him… and look where it got him.”

Mallymkun swallowed. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m fighting this war to save Cheshire,” Rocket said, “But I don’t go making lousy decisions. If I really want to save him, I have to end this battle—cut out the roots. I wish that bloodhound saw it that way… if he did, maybe he’d still be alive.”

The Tweedles caught up behind them and then Rocket walked forward again, stepping on shattered glass as he entered the room.

“It’s when we become selfless at times like this when we lose our lives. If you want to survive this war, be selfish,” Rocket said, “Don’t let this battle take something from you. Take whoever you love and keep him for yourself. That’s how you’ll survive.”

Mallymkun nodded subtly. There really was more to this raccoon that just an ill-mannered animal.


	30. Mirana's White Summer

“Good eye, Mctwisp.” Alice smiled at the holographic projection which displayed the bloodhound dead on a spear.

The white rabbit was given control over the red and white soldiers as Alice prepared herself for the final battle. Mctwisp swallowed—the guilt and confusion warring on what gets to sit inside his mind. Killing Bayard wasn’t part of his intentions. He only meant to corner them… to make them surrender however little did he know that that wasn’t an option.

He didn’t know Bayard very well. He’s only met the bloodhound a few times before he vanished in the outlands with few rebels behind his back. Still, it didn’t feel right. He tried to erase the guilt by reassuring himself that everything would be fixed once Alice reigns victorious. She possessed the time gem—capable of bringing the dead back to life.

He only has to live through the war to reset all that will happen.

“Have the Jubjub bird on the battlefield,” Alice commanded, “I fear that my precious Jabberwocky would get overwhelmed.”

Mctwisp followed obediently, accessing the internal program of the robotic Jubjub bird and sending it to the factory.

Alice sat on her control chair which appeared more like a throne and began pressing combinations of buttons. The underground laboratory grumbled and then it rotated. Moments later, they ascend as the ceiling of the laboratory parted, showing the horrific sky of thunderous clouds.

They were surrounded by blazing buildings as they reached the top. Yes, Mctwisp thought, of course they were under the Clockwork town.

Alice spread her arms in the air, like a bird about to take flight as she heaved in a deep breath—inhaling the arson and the scent of burning flesh in the mix. It wasn’t pleasant. The white rabbit even covered his nose just to block what he could from entering his lungs.

“I thought I forgot how this felt,” Alice said. Her pink skin was splashed with orange from the fires as her hair flailed like a flag towards the direction of the wind. “Stand, my friend and feel the war seep through your skin.”

Mctwisp opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted when electric projectiles landed on Alice. It was an accurate shot. Three ion blasts cleanly hit Alice and thereafter came a voice from the shooter.

“I hope y’felt that.” It was James. He carried a small gun, the mouthpiece still blowing smoke.

Mctwisp was surprised and he didn’t know whether to turn to the Xandarian looney or the March hare.

Alice laughed. She laughed so hard, her voice echoed into the sky.

“Did you think that would kill me… Thackery?” Alice turned behind her—to where the March hare was.

“It’s James!” the March hare yelled and then bombarded Alice with electrical shots. He didn’t stop until Alice’s area was covered in smoke from the blasts. He thought that’d finish the looney but when the smoke subsided, Alice stood her ground, unscathed.

“Fine armor I made,” Alice spread her arms to display the suit she wore. She smiled wickedly, “How about you… _James_ ,” she mocked, “Are you wearing any armor?”

James swallowed, gripping the gun tighter inside his hands. Before he could reply, Alice pointed a finger to him and then a small projectile flew swiftly towards his direction.

James jumped out of the way but the bullet was too fast. He got hit on the shoulder. The pain surged through him instantly. It was no ordinary bullet, he could tell. It wasn’t the first time he got shot however this felt different. He felt like he was burning—almost as if his arm fell off.

“J-james…” Mctwisp blurted out of worry but he didn’t dare to interfere.

After the March hare landed on the ground, he dropped his gun, unable to hold it with his limping arm.

“What a boring fight,” Alice pointed the same finger to James.

The March hare began moving randomly, placing his fate by mere luck however it wasn’t enough. Alice was more than what he anticipated. She was a sharpshooter. The mad scientist intended to his James on the leg and so she did… and she succeeded.

James stumbled on the ground, his blood pooling on the dirt.

“Shame…” Alice nodded her head and aimed her finger on James’s head.

“H-he’s down…” Mctwisp said loudly, catching Alice’s attention. “He couldn’t hold a weapon, he couldn’t move—he’s as good as dead.”

Alice sighed, not keeping her finger away from James as she responded to Mctwisp. “My dear friend… he could only be as good as dead if he’s dead. It’s simple, you understand that, right?”

“But he’s not a threat anymore.” Mctwisp tried his best to convince Alice. He thought fast of any reason he could possibly say to change Alice’s mind but from the mad scientist’s face, it didn’t seem like anything would work.

“Promise me you won’t betray me,” Alice said.

“I-I promise just don’t kill him… please.”

Alice laid her hand down when in the distance was a fast approaching sprint. The moment she turned her head, a leg clashed with her neck. The force made Alice kneel but failed to make her fall.

“The ungrateful red bitch of Salazen Grum,” Alice spat and then got up. She pointed her finger at Iracebeth but the red queen was more than aware of what Alice intended to do so she combatted Alice short-ranged so as not to give her a chance of shooting.

“I’ve nothing to be grateful for,” Iracebeth said as she kicked Alice on the stomach.

Alice was sent in the distance, half-kneeling and before she could get up, Iracebeth bombarded her with punches, giving her no chance to use the weapons of her armor.

“Futile…” Alice said as she blocked Iracebeth’s punch. “Don’t you see that you’ve no way of winning?” she ducked to evade the swing of Iracebeth’s foot. “Even if I sit idly as you punch me all day, I won’t die or even feel a thing.”

Even so, Iracebeth didn’t stop. “I’ll think of some way to bring you down,” Iracebeth caught Alice’s arm and twisted it behind her, incapacitating the scientist.

Alice laughed.

Iracebeth was now behind Alice, holding her arms behind her back. “What’s funny?” Iracebeth whispered to Alice’s ear.

“I was just playing around with you.”

Before Iracebeth could even think of the words Alice said, a powerful current surged through her body, paralyzing her. The red queen dropped on the ground, shaking.

“Sloppy… but still more fun than with the March hare.” Alice was about to shoot Iracebeth when a burning wood was sent flying towards her, hitting her hand. The shot was redirected and just in front of Alice, her third opponent waited—the white queen.

“Leave my sister alone… Alice.” There was a pause before Mirana mentioned Alice’s name as if she feared the name itself or disgusted it altogether.

“That’s a wrong way to fight me, Mirana,” Alice smiled. “You know I could just shoot you… but that would be too boring.”

Mirana swallowed. Carefully, she began walking towards Alice—calm yet thundering inside. “I didn’t know you played so unfairly… fighting unarmored opponents and killing them as they lay helpless.”

Alice was provoked. “I won the fight,” she said through gritted teeth, “and the price of it is their lives.”

Mirana kept her face directed at Alice but every once in a while she looked to James’s direction, signaling the March hare to flee with her unconscious sister. Mirana walked around Alice so the Xandarian scientist would face her and the March hare would have an opportunity to escape.

“Do you wish to test me…Alice?” Mirana stalled.

Alice chuckled. “What would I gain if I test you?”

“Providence,” Mirana looked beyond Alice where James limped to drag Iracebeth out of the battlefield. “Or do you admit that a guinea pig is much stronger than you are?”

Alice was laughing manically now. “Do you think I’m a fool?” she lifted a finger at Mirana. “I know what you’re trying to do. If providence is what I gain then I’ve no need to strip of my armor. It’s a battle of capability. I know what you’re capable of, Mirana and you know mine… I’m wearing it.”

Mirana swallowed. “Very well then.” She walked towards Alice.

They meet each other eye to eye for seconds before Alice surprises with a grab which Mirana evaded by stepping back. Alice swiped at Mirana’s direction but the white queen ducked and thrusted her palm against Alice’s chest. The looney was pushed back but hardly damaged.

Alice lunged towards Mirana with a forward kick. The white queen caught Alice’s leg and kicked the other with her foot. When Alice was on the ground, Mirana drowned Alice with blows of her elbow.

Alice blocked with her arms and palm-thrusted upward hitting the white queen under the chin. Mirana fell on the dirt as Alice stood up and picked her up. Mirana clutched the dirt and at the right time, when Alice held her midair, she threw the dirt on Alice’s eyes, blinding her.

Alice dropped Mirana on the ground and the moment the white queen was on her feet, she ducked low and struck Alice with both hands on the stomach. Alice fell on the ground. Mirana sat on top of Alice and began striking her head which was the most vulnerable part.

Just after a few punches though, Alice activated her electrical field, shocking the white queen.

“I know I’ll never win a hand to hand combat with any of you,” Alice got up as she stared at the twitching Mirana. “But as I said—it’s a battle of capabilities.” She looked around and noticed that the March hare and the red queen weren’t at the battlefield anymore.

Though weak and paralyzed, Mirana chuckled. “One life for two others.” She lied on her back, staring at the sky.

“Mercy, Alice…” Mctwisp whimpered as he looked at the white queen.

Alice spared no words as Mirana spared a gaze to the white rabbit. Lying on the ground, she turned her head to Mctwisp. “You’re there…” she whispered and then frowned, “That’s not you.”

Mirana turned her head once more to the sky. The canopy of dark clouds and lightning met her vision but she imagined that it was just one summer morning in the white palace. After all these years, there was actually a time she felt happy in Wonderland. In the garden of white roses, under the shade of a tree, cooled by the midday breeze, her sister and her friends visit her to offer some flowers. Perhaps offer a short time as they all sit together, reminiscing about the war beside her tomb.

The Clockwork town turned a dim orange as the fire subsided, leaving giant embers of wood and ash-black bodies. A loud shot escaped into the sky, enticing James’s ears to rise towards its direction. He swallowed, nodding his head slowly side to side as he endeavored to drag the red queen to safety behind the wall of trees.

Grief overrode him as the sky mourned for drops of tears began to fall.


	31. Rendezvous

They were winning the fight despite their numbers. The robotic soldiers were hardly threats and could be taken down by tens with just one warrior. The armors and weapons the Tweedles made were what changed the odds of their victory.

One warrior, armored with adamantium breastplate, was already immune to piercing lances and could combat with his gauntleted knuckles. Electric blasts deemed no effect as the Tweedles anticipated such and covered the interiors of the armors with thick leather. Another warrior, armed with a bow, had a quiver that heated adamantium arrows. One shot could pass through three soldiers at least. And many more had unique weapons that fit their skill.

Baeley was at the front line, by now, in the middle of clashing warriors and enemy soldiers. He used the small pistol-like weapon his father parted with him, fighting for vengeance. He was alone now without a family—his brothers and sisters, dead; his mother and father, dead. He never thought that he would be fighting on the same battlefield where he lost most of his loved ones. Now he’s the only one left.

Everywhere around, every warrior could see victory as they overwhelm the robots. Baeley could feel their thirst for vengeance get quenched for every enemy unit they destroy. It was in the atmosphere, fighting the woe that enveloped them from the many deaths around Wonderland.

Lightning flashed long, blinding most of them including the focused bloodhound. Baeley felt a spear poke him but failed to penetrate due to his armor. He turned to the enemy soldier and shot it with one projectile. No sooner after that, lightning flashed once more. It couldn’t be just lightning, Baeley thought. It didn’t seem natural.

Heavy flaps resonated in the sky and were followed by a harsh screech. The Jabberwocky hovered midair. The warriors all paused to look except some whose battles were too dire to neglect.

One warrior shot the Jabberwocky with a heated arrow—the shape of the projectile most apparent in the distance with its orangey red color lining the air. It hit the Jabberwocky somewhere around the shoulder region, sinking half of its whole length through the dragon’s flesh but hardly enough to make any critical damage. Instead, it provoked the fierce dragon.

The Jabberwocky rose above the clouds, angling to dive for the warriors. It descends rapidly and swipes one warrior with its claw, crushing him as it flew. The second time it swooped down, it spat out lightning, overwhelming soldiers and warriors alike, turning flesh into ashes.

The warriors began panicking as their numbers began decreasing. None of them were really harmed by the robots until the Jabberwocky joined the fray. One swing of the beast killed fives of warriors.

Baeley commanded the warriors to spread out—occupy more area away from allies to lessen the kills. When the Jabberwocky breathed lightning once again, more warriors evaded and fewer died.

“C’mon, Mallymkun…” Baeley looked over his shoulder to the burning dome of the factory. The frames of the building collapsed, destroying the structure completely. Baeley swallowed and hoped they could come up with a way to destroy the Jabberwocky themselves.

The dragon was above Baeley, angling once again to sweep the ground. Baeley could tell that the Jabberwocky targeted him. He readied himself for an evasion and an attack afterwards. The ghastly beast hid above the clouds as it always does before coming down in a rapid pace, claws extended taut.

Baeley began shooting the beast but his projectiles couldn’t even change the course of the Jabberwocky.

Distant firing sounded and then Baeley saw luminescent bullets hit the dragon. He was splashed by red liquid—raining from the Jabberwocky’s flesh. The wounded dragon pulled back and hid above the clouds once more.

“Are you alright, Baeley?” Mallymkun sounded like he was in Baeley’s ear.

“Mallymkun?” Baeley asked, “How is it that I can hear you?”

The dormouse chuckled, “Radio, my friend. The Tweedles installed it in your armors so that we could communicate.”

“How convenient…” Baeley chuckled.

“Pay attention to your surroundings first, puppy, or you’ll wind up like your father.” Different voice but familiar.

“Don’t mind Rocket, Baeley,” Mallymkun apologized, “He’s just concerned about you.”

“Enough of that,” Rocket said, “Let’s hunt that _Jabbingwicky_.”

Hope surged through Baeley again as he felt the odds turn with them once more. A drop of rain touched Baeley’s nose, enticing the bloodhound to look at the violet sky. It began raining.

***

Droplets of rain hit Rocket’s windshield. The raccoon muttered a curse as he wasn’t used to fighting airborne with distractions. Rain wasn’t so common in outer space. It wasn’t big enough, like asteroids or fast enough like bullets, to be evaded. Raindrops were small and could create liquid curtains with the clouds.

“Crap…” Rocket muttered to which the dormouse responded at immediately.

“Is there a problem with your ship, Rocket?” Mallymkun asked.

“The weather’s the problem,” Rocket peered for the Jabberwocky. “I’m not used to weather is all.”

Something came into view but it wasn’t the Jabberwocky. It was too small to be the dragon and then too big to be something else Rocket was familiar of. It was just a red dot in the distance but in the span of passing seconds, the dot was actually two red glowing eyes now forming a shape of another beast.

Rocket realized that it could be one of Alice’s inventions again. He dived down to evade the beast and checked his radar for any foreign objects within range.

“Guys, there’s another thing in the sky—birdlike,” Rocket spoke through his radio.

“Birdlike?” Mallymkun asked.

Rocket checked his radar again and the machine was out of his range.

“I see it,” Tweedle Dum said.

“Brother, I see it as well,” Tweedle Dee followed, “It’s the Jubjub bird.”

Rocket turned his ship around and assumed the direction of the Jubjub bird. “Is that thing robotic or made of flesh?”

“Robotic,” Mallymkun answered.

The Tweedles were quiet for a long time before one of them—Tweedle Dum—spoke again. “The thing is made of adamantium steel and these ships don’t have anything that could penetrate it.”

Tweedle Dee followed, “Rocket, Mally, you handle the Jabberwocky. My brother and I will take care of the bird.”

“How?” Mallymkun asked.

“We’ll think of something… we always have,” Tweedle Dum replied.

Rocket, once more, turned his ship around and flew above the clouds where there was less rain. Mallymkun’s ship came beside Rocket’s and both of them saw the Jabberwocky breathing lightning on the clouds.

“You ready, little guy?

“Right behind you.”

***

James limped deeper into the forest, dragging Iracebeth with him. He left a trail of blood that marked his path and he was thankful that it began raining. Perhaps, just perhaps, the planet was on their side, helping in any way it can and it helped aplenty. They were already deep into the woods when James’s hand began twitching. He began chortling, itching to toss anything he could touch.

Not now, he said to himself. His mind was clouded by teatime and teacups. He was late for tea.

James shook his head violently. He placed Iracebeth to lie by the trunk of a tree and he limped towards another, banging his head against its trunk.

“Not… now…” he gritted his teeth and then he was chuckling. “Ey, y’late for tea!” he looked at the unconscious red queen. “’Ell, don’t just lie there!” he shouted, “Look for teacups in y’mid. Hop along now, lass… heh…heh…heh…”

The tone of James’s laughter fell and he sat back against the trunk of the tree across Iracebeth. “I’m…sorry…Irac—m-my queen… heh-heh-heh…be a merciful monarch and don’t take ma’ head.”

James’s vision began to blur from all the blood he lost. For a moment, he forgot that he was wounded. He tried getting up with little strength he had left. He kept in mind that Mirana died so they could get away. He shouldn’t let her death be in vain.

James’s leg quivered and he fell back down kneeling. He pushed his back against the trunk and got up once more, maintaining his balance. He limped towards Iracebeth but just after one step, he almost stumbled had it not been for someone to catch him on the back.

It happened fast—so fast as if whoever caught him just materialized before the ground to catch him. James’s vision was blurry so he couldn’t make up his savior other than his color. “B-blue?” James smiled. He couldn’t mistake that color for somebody else’s.

“Is this James I’m talking to or Thackery?” Cheshire chuckled. He carried James on his back as he floated towards Iracebeth’s direction.

James groaned. “One of the other,” he answered jokingly.

Tarrant followed shortly behind, arriving at a scene where there were almost two unconscious people. “What happened here?” he asked.

Cheshire placed James beside Iracebeth and shrugged to answer Tarrant.

“We thought we could beat her…” James said weakly but the contempt was still apparent from the way he talked. “She hides away in armor invulnerable to blasts and physical attacks as far as we know.”

“Where’s the white queen?” Cheshire asked.

James swallowed, nodding his head slowly left and right, his eyes closing. “She sacrificed herself so we could escape…”

Both Cheshire and Tarrant were shocked but instead of wearing grief, they wore vengeance.

“She didn’t suffer at the least, did she?” Cheshire landed on the ground and knelt to examine James’s wounds.

“It was quick…” James answered.

“Good…” Cheshire said. He ran his claw on James’s wound and without even warning the hare, he swiped the bullet out with one quick swing. James groaned in pain as blood poured out of his flesh.

Quickly after getting the bullet out, Cheshire pressed his hand on James’s wound and crimson smoke began emanating from the area. The bleeding stopped in seconds and the wound closed up, leaving not even a scar to prove its existence.

James chortled, feeling better. “Since when did you learn how to do that?”

Cheshire was quiet before he answered. “I was shocked myself too,” he said. “It’s the first time I did that no thanks to Tarrant.”

They both looked at the idle Hatter across them.

“He wanted to stab me with his claws and then heal me,” Tarrant said. “After,” he raised his voice to prevent Cheshire from talking, “I let him scratch my arm to test his healing.”

“I told you,” Cheshire protested, “What if it doesn’t work on deep wounds?”

“Well it just did,” Tarrant lifted his shoulders up.

Cheshire repeated the same procedure on James’s leg—swiping the bullet with his sharp claws and healing the wound with his new asset afterwards.

Iracebeth woke up not long after witnessing the Cheshire cat beside her. “Cheshire?” the red queen groaned.

Cheshire helped her sit straight.

“You’re alive?” she asked and then massaged her head. “Oh wait… Alice beat me so I guess I’m dead.” Shortly after, she noticed Tarrant standing across her and James beside her. “How did the war go? Why are we all dead? Did Alice win?”

Cheshire hushed her. “We’re still alive and the war is still going on,” he said. “Your sister…” Cheshire failed to continue and Iracebeth needn’t hear the rest of it to know what Cheshire was about to say.

“When this war is over, I will take Alice’s head myself,” she muttered and got up.

James followed, feeling much stronger than before and somehow, there was no war inside his mind about who gets to take over. For the first time in a very long time, he could think of tea without having hysteria take over him.

“We’re all ready for war,” Tarrant said, “But does anybody know where the main battle is happening?”

They all look at each other.

“The warriors never came back to the Clockwork town,” Iracebeth said. “They could only be at that place Mirana took from Alice.”

“Do you know the way?” Cheshire asked.

“I think I do.”


	32. Final Clash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I rushed this... idk

The enemies were outnumbered but the odds were barely equal. Alice’s side still had a better chance of winning with an indestructible bird in the sky and a foul dragon lingering nearby. The battle on the ground was nearly won so long as Rocket’s team kept the two key elements in the sky.

The Tweedles had the Jubjub bird circling for them. They only distracted the bird while they thought of ways they could possibly deactivate the machine. It was made of adamantium metal and could only be destroyed by the same material.

Rocket and Mallymkun rooted for the Jabberwocky, bombarding the dragon with metallic bullets. Though the projectiles never penetrated deep enough, they kept on so that it may weaken the dragon for the final blow.

Baeley cleaned up the remaining few of the enemy soldiers, now much more flexible to witness the airborne battle. He could only look at the spaceships dashing below the clouds before vanishing above the canopy once more.

It rained blood in some areas and it could only be from the Jabberwocky’s wound. Though the war was far from over, Baeley managed to pull in a breath of relief. From what he witnessed so far in the battle, they were winning. His warriors overpowered the enemy—not by number but by skill. In the distant battlefield, he could see the hearts of the warriors. They fought for something much more than just vengeance—they fought for freedom.

The last of the robotic army fell and the warriors were all left standing amid the piles of metal debris and carcasses. All that was left now was to watch the battle in the air and root for their side. Fast flying aircrafts dove from the sky, swooshing instantly with tailwinds behind them. The Jubjub bird as well as the Jabberwocky had their targets locked on the ships and completely neglected the warriors below. The warriors became lenient and carefree, putting all their attention to the sky that they failed to notice a new set of enemies arrive.

Drones stormed the air like groups of bees, swirling with the wind. The aircrafts were pointed pyramids with red scanners at the center. Its red lenses emitted lasers that lined the ground with fire. One warrior struck by its line was separated in half cleanly—both segments of him set on fire and not long before turning into ashes.

Baeley gasped for breath as he held on to the electric gun his father had passed on to him. He fired randomly in the air and set drones crashing on the ground but that was just out of probability because of the drone’s number not out of focus. Still, it was better than not hitting anything at all.

The warriors all came into battle once again, striking the air. The melees were at a disadvantage because the drones were all at the sky, striking long range. Those that specialized in close combat chose to fling their weapons and hoped to hit than dying not being able to do anything at all.

Chaos reigned as quickly as it subsided. The drones didn’t only home for the warriors on the ground. It also targeted the spaceships fending off the Jabberwocky and the Jubjub bird.

The Tweedles’ ships were being chased off by a group of drones, allowing the Jubjub bird to lay waste upon the soldiers. Rocket’s and Mallymkun’s ships weren’t performing any better than the Tweedles’ for the Jabberwocky wreaked havoc once again. If there’s any good about the Jabberwocky’s attack, it would be its carelessness of its allies. The Jabberwocky paid no mind to the drones. With one spit of the Jabberwock, drones in its path were obliterated.

Baeley watched with horror as the ground was set ablaze. More and more warriors fell every moment until there were only a handful of them on the ground and Rocket’s platoon fleeing in the sky.

The drones stopped their random attack and all rose to the sky. They formed a barrier, encasing the whole battlefield and sealing any exit shut. Not long after, from its self-constructed force field, opened a gap and a pink skinned looney with her white henchman arrive at a hovering stage.

Baeley squinted, at the distant figure for something dangled beneath Alice’s hovering craft. And when he made up the figure of a dead body—Mirana’s body hanging—he had to look away.

“Is this all that’s left of you?” Alice’s voice echoed through a speaker. “I bring to you, your precious white queen.” Alice hovered at the center of the battlefield—above where Baeley and some warriors were and then she dropped the hanging body of the white queen.

“Warriors, catch her!” Baeley commanded.

They retrieved the body of Mirana—ice cold. The queen had a bullet-hole punched on her forehead to which, Baeley was bitterly relieved to witness. At the very least, she didn’t suffer but how dare Alice desecrate her body like this.

The drones that created the barrier separated them from the Jabberwocky and the Jubjub bird although safe was the last word Baeley searched for. They were stuck inside a prison with something much fouler than the dragon—Alice.

As the Xandarian looney moved around on her hovering stage, Baeley noticed the white rabbit maneuvering the controls. Since all Alice did was stand on her stage and gaze over the dead bodies, Baeley concluded that the drones were all controlled by the white rabbit.

The bloodhound looked around and found the warrior he was just looking for—the snaky archer.

“Lariss,” Baeley called.

The snaky cyborg approached Baeley.

“How many arrows do you have left on your quiver?” he asked.

Lariss turned his back on Baeley, “Two heated adamantium steels _sss_ , Chief.”

“Do you think you could hit that white rabbit up there?”

Lariss squinted, “If I could get clos _ss_ e enough, I’ll be able to hit him.”

“You’re going to need protection,” Baeley looked around and spotted the axe-cyborg. “Eyron,” Baeley called.

The axe-cyborg approached, clutching his new battle-axe like a club. “Yes, Chief?”

“You, Lariss and I are going to take these drones down and Alice as well if fate permits us so,” Baeley said. “We’ve only got two chances at this so we better put all our faith in Lariss’s arrows.”

Eyron nodded and together with Baeley and Lariss, they approached stealthily.

***

There was a barrier underneath them, Rocket noticed but he had little time to be thinking about what’s happening below since he was pursued by six deathly drones. Two flew beside him—left and right; one above and one below while the last two tailed behind. The drones weren’t attacking—if they could attack. Since its appearance, Rocket hasn’t seen its hostility and he began to doubt whether the drones were combative or not.

Doubt could get anyone killed in war and Rocket knew that which is why he played safe and expected the worse—the drones could be time bombs ticking this very minute, trapping him in an area of explosion.

Mallymkun was somewhere nearby, in the same dilemma as Rocket—with six drones pursuing him.

“Rocket, do you copy?” Mallymkun called.

“What is it?” Rocket replied almost too annoyed. He wasn’t in the state of mind where he could communicate fluently right now. Death was near him—near them—near all of them.

“The Jabberwocky isn’t in my radius.”

“Shouldn’t you be worrying on the drones homing for us at the moment?”

Rocket’s ship shuddered lightly and beside him, the drones fell one by one.

The dormouse chuckled frivolously on the radio—almost sounding arrogant. “I shot them all down, including yours,” Mallymkun said with pride.

Rocket only rolled his eyes. He checked his radar and his direction to be sure if there were any more drones that would, again, target them. “The drones formed some kind of barrier underneath us,” he said, “Baeley and the warriors are inside that force field.”

Mallymkun didn’t reply for a long while. Rocket waited, mainly keeping his eyes on the speaker of the radio than what was in front of him. As he rode in the air, a falling aircraft almost clashed with the unfocused raccoon. He muttered a curse as he veered the ship out of the way by reflex.

The aircraft left a trail of black smoke, dragging a line toward where it fell. Rocket turned the ship around and watched as one of the Tweedles’ ship fell with the Jubjub bird mutilating its engine.

“Rocket, do you copy?” Tweedle Dum was hysterical. Rocket could hear the fat man’s muffled gasps through the speaker. “The Jubjub bird managed to lock on Dee’s ship and now he’s falling.”

“I saw it.” Rocket dove to where he last saw Tweedle Dee’s ship fall. The crashing ship went directly to the barrier. Rocket expected that it would be Dee’s doom but instead, the drones projected a capturing light that suspended Tweedle Dee’s fall. Tweedle Dee’s ship was slowly lured inside the barrier along with the Jubjub bird.

“Tweedle Dum…” Rocket spoke through the radio, “Your brother is inside the barrier.”

A deafening static came out of Rocket’s speaker.“R-rocket! Do you copy?!” Mallymkun sounded hysterical. “Whatever you do, do not approach the barrier. I-I got captured and-and… Alice is here.”

Tweedle Dum’s worry manifested itself audibly. His concern for his other half was desperate as it was loud. Rocket listened to Tweedle Dum mutter words in another tongue or in the same tongue as they all spoke but drowned by the fat man’s accent.

Then, after a while, Tweedle Dum settled down. “My brother got captured, aye?” Tweedle Dum swallowed a gulp of air. His tone was flat but his intention was apparent.

“If you’re thinking of giving yourself up, don’t,” Rocket said through gritted teeth. He thought of the words—that would sound polite and convincing enough to coax the suicidal Tweedle Dum into falling back. But the twin was already resolute.

“You’ve no idea of the things Alice is capable of, Rocket…” Tweedle Dum’s tone was low. “And if she’s going to torment my brother, she might as well torment me as well.”

“No, Dum, don’t you dare let yourself get captured! The war isn’t over! We could still save him!” Rocket was yelling. There were no more replies from Tweedle Dum… just that, outside Rocket’s pane, he saw a ship dove towards the barrier and a bright light enveloped the ship, pulling it inside.

Rocket groaned, annoyed by Tweedle Dum’s impulsive decision. Now it was just up to him to try and figure out how to free everybody else. First thing’s first though—Rocket has to defeat the approaching Jabberwocky.

There in the distance—about a human thumb’s sized big—danced the Jabberwock.

***

Cheshire’s platoon was at the edge of the battlefield—at the forest side. They halted quite a distance away from when they noticed something peculiar at the very end of the forest side. It was a luminescent wall or a barrier, according to Tarrant who explained too well how it was formed.

“I forgot to mention that Alice created war drones in case her robotic soldiers fail her,” Tarrant said. “Actually, I’ve forgotten all about it. It’s one of the first things she created way before all of you came into this prison.” The mad hatter knelt on the ground and squinted. “That’s a force field indeed.” He confirmed.

“It covers the battlefield,” Iracebeth said, “The battle is inside, let’s go inside.” Iracebeth took a march forward but was stopped immediately by the mad hare.

“Let’s not be impulsive,” James countered, “The warriors inside there are probably thinking of ways to defeat Alice outside those drones.” James squinted. “How we could possibly get out, they’re all thinking.”

“What do you suggest we do then?” Iracebeth asked impatiently. She tapped her foot and folded her arms on her chest. “While they’re thinking how they could all get out, Alice is already thinking of ways to kill them.”

“Which is why we shouldn’t enter carelessly without securing a way out,” James raised his voice. He looked Iracebeth straight in the eyes for a moment and looked away…not because he couldn’t handle the red queen’s sharp gaze—it was dull actually—but because he’s never seen so much grief before manifests itself into desperation. Iracebeth needs guidance right now. If she’s alone, she would have rushed towards her inevitable death. “I’m sorry…” James swallowed.

Iracebeth only looked down.

“What do these drones do actually?” Cheshire intercepted, turning behind him toward the mad hatter.

Tarrant leaned against a tree, recalling how Alice built them. “I was mostly assigned on experiments involving more flesh than machine but if I recall correctly, these drones could, scout, secure, retrieve and destroy.”

“So in short, Alice will be able to see us coming should we approach near enough?” Iracebeth asked. She mumbled quietly, “That bitch really knows how to secure herself.” Iracebeth groaned, “What if Cheshire checks them first?”

“Highly experimental and risky,” Tarrant replied, “You know how light beams could retrieve things in space, yes? It’s a basic feature of a ship and it is present in those drones.”

“What if I just vaporize the drones?” Cheshire suggested.

“You’ll be captured before you could do that,” Tarrant nodded left and right, “You’re still matter even as you become vapor, Chess and light beams capture matter. Alice took note of that since from the very beginning, she already intended to make you.”

“Would it be possible if we tunnel our way inside?” James recommended, suddenly walking between the cat and the hatter. He jumped in the air and knelt on the ground, demonstrating to dig in an area. “Like a bunny in his burrow!”

Tarrant looked up—in between being convinced and not. He nodded his head up and down. “That’s a very good idea. However, we’ve no time to dig.”

Cheshire stretched his arms, “We don’t have to dig,” he smiled further. “I nearly turned Salazen Grum into a crater. What’s a tunnel’s worth?”

Cheshire knelt on the ground and pressed his hand on one area. The dirt beneath them grumbled but not as strong as it was obvious. Pebbles rose up in the air as well as dirt and the area where Cheshire’s hand was pressed deepened. The floating dirt and stones turned to smoke just as the area was punctured a perfectly circular, five-foot deep hole.

“Neat…” James smiled.

“You might want to increase the size of that entrance,” Tarrant pointed out, “Well… since, Iracebeth and I are also going in.”

Cheshire shrugged, “I forgot that you’re all much bigger than we are.” He laughed. He vanished into vapor that sunk within the burrow, expanding the radius of the area. From below, he looked up. “Best if I finish tunneling first before you follow. The ground might collapse on you.”

The following minutes were brownish smoke rising up from the tunnel.

***

Cheshire secured the tunnel, making sure it wouldn’t collapse in a good amount of time although he wasn’t sure if it would hold up very long. From the first end of the tunnel, Cheshire floated toward the waiting group.

“I scoured the area,” he said, “Few rebels remain standing. Mallymkun and the Tweedles are kept hostage separate from the fighters. I tunneled an alternative route near them and managed to inform Mally of the passage. They couldn’t move, however, because Alice might kill the warriors if they suddenly vanish. Alice rides a hovering stage with Mctwisp on the control panel.”

Cheshire seemed bothered… the mad hatter couldn’t overlook it. It was obvious despite Cheshire’s perpetual smile.

“And Rocket?” Tarrant asked, hoping for the best of news for the raccoon despite them not being on good terms.

Cheshire’s brows furrowed to the center of his face, almost looking angry than sad. “I haven’t seen him or his body… he might be elsewhere,” Cheshire answered dryly.

He directed his friends inside the tunnel where they had to crawl the whole way. Cheshire was the last who was about to enter and it was the slightest seconds when Cheshire’s eyes caught something in the leaf-draped sky before he could enter the tunnel—the figure of a spaceship pursued by the Jabberwocky. A drop of crimson landed somewhere under his eye and Cheshire wiped it, realizing it was blood.

“Tarrant, I’ll follow…”

***

Rocket was chased by the Jabberwocky. He couldn’t bombard the Dragon with bullets since he wasn’t the one on the back. Previously was much easier when Mallymkun was chased by the dragon and he did the shooting. Now that he was alone, the situation wasn’t very friendly.

He tried circling the Jabberwocky but the dragon was much more intelligent than it seemed. It was weak and injured yet somehow still strong enough to bring an army down. Well, it needn’t bring an army down to bring him down.

Rocket rose above the clouds where it was much brighter and less dark with purplish colors. It was calm—the afternoon sky concealed by the ominous storm and beneath him looked like an ocean. For a moment, Rocket forgot that he was being pursued by the Jabberwocky. This was one of the rare times he was mesmerized by the beauty of planets for he wasn’t fond of planets at all. He was only reminded when the dragon took a blind shot and actually hit.

The lightning spit struck the back of Rocket’s ship like a solid projectile. It cracked up the metal and destroyed his engine completely, making him fall.

There wasn’t much option in what Rocket could do. The options left all would kill him since he was falling but he went with something that would possibly leave a body to mourn on. He punched the exit button of the ship and the door fell as it opened. Everything was vacuumed outside and Rocket only unbuckled his seatbelt to let the current of wind pull him out of the ship.

He was falling hundreds of thousands of feet in the air but what was before him was a sight to behold. He never quite understood the beauty of planets but one thing he seems to understand would be the way skies change depending on the time of the day. And it just so happened that this time had the sky colored slightly pinkish with silvery clouds highlighted by the sun. At least, those were the few seconds of it. Once Rocket fell beneath it, everything was chaotic purple and drowned in the color of agony.

Much worse, the Jabberwocky flew towards his direction, mouth of serrated teeth ready for snapping. Everything seemed to have slowed down—perhaps this was what he heard Peter Quill say one time—that before death, life will flash before you as if giving its last farewell. Many times, Rocket has been on the verge of death and this—what he’s experiencing right now—never happened before.

Rocket felt that he should close his eyes but he didn’t dare. Death was certain and death happens once. Such a rarity only to be missed by cowardice is not the way he wanted to go.

The Jabberwocky’s small figure in the distance grew larger as it neared. The flaps of its wings—faltered by its wounds which Rocket inflicted—looked disturbing enough to empathize. The creature was furious with him which explains why it hadn’t struck Rocket with lightning. It wanted to kill Rocket by its teeth—a brutal thing to have been decided by a creature that doesn’t have a sense of reason.

It closed in on him and was about as large as anything Rocket’s ever seen. Mere inches from the Jabberwocky’s serrated teeth, the whole dragon wailed and then vanished into smoke. The foul vapor swallowed Rocket for a moment before he fell beneath it and he could watch that purplish smoke blend with the clouds.. Rocket was perplexed and wasn’t on his mind to think of how such a thing was possible but he remembered that it _was_ possible when his descent became a smooth glide in the air.

Greyish smoke formed a cloud bed underneath him and not long after materialized the feline. Cheshire had his hands behind his neck and one foot on top of the other swaying to an unknown beat as if lying on a hammock. Like the first time he caught Rocket from falling. His grin was wider than before and Rocket couldn’t help but smile himself.

“You fall from a tree and you shout,” Cheshire said, “You fall from a ship hundreds of thousands of feet in the air while watching a dragon home for you and not even a sound comes out?”

Rocket chortled and then he was laughing. Using both hands, he grabbed hold of Cheshire’s arms and placed them behind his neck before stationing his on Cheshire’s waist. He angled both of them to fall head first as the raccoon savored the time they were in each other’s embraces.

“So you finally had those on your back fixed, eh?” Rocket laughed.

“Aye…” Cheshire chuckled, “and I could also purify wounds now.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Rocket said.

“Do you have any wounds now?”

Rocket smiled and forgot to answer. Unknowingly, he nodded his head left and right, brushing the back of his hand on Cheshire’s cheek.

“Why did I even ask…” Cheshire said as if he was stupid. Rocket’s wounds were there—healing quite wrongly. He never did receive proper treatment since the incident at Salazen Grum. Parts of Rocket were bald of fur with flat, unnatural wounds from flesh that were vaporized. “Does it still hurt?” Cheshire traced one wound on Rocket’s cheek with his finger.

Rocket snorted, “Psh… little wounds like this don’t hurt me.”

“You must be a strong man,” Cheshire chuckled wryly. “Still… It was because of me that you’re injured.” Before Rocket could say anything more, Cheshire closed in on the raccoon, kissing him just outside the lips.

Rocket’s wounds fizzled and crimson smoke faded from it but afterwards, it was though as the wounds were never there.

Cheshire withdrew.

Rocket coughed and couldn’t settle his look on the feline as though as it was the first time they ever kissed. “Does it only work with a kiss?” he asked. “How many have you healed?”

Cheshire chortled, “Just you and James… I tested it on Tarrant though.” Cheshire’s eyes were expectant of any reaction from the raccoon.

“So… you’d have to kiss them as well for it to work? On the lips?”

“Don’t worry. It works with contact and on my will. I just missed kissing you is all…”

They were both unaware of their environment all the while they descended gracefully. They forgot that beneath them was the barrier of drones that, by the time they realized, already enveloped them in a beam of homing light.

Slowly, they were pulled in.

***

They were midair—suspended and held immobile by the beam of light. They were at the center of the battlefield where they had view of all the dead, all the destroyed and all that was left standing to oppose the Xandarian looney.

Alice approached on her hovering stage with the traitorous little white rabbit maneuvering the controls for her. She faced Rocket and Cheshire, back straight and hands behind her with a taunting smirk on her lips.

“My favorite lab rat,” she looked to Cheshire, “and the rodent that ruined it all,” she turned bitterly toward Rocket.

If Rocket could spit on Alice, he would have done it had he not been paralyzed by her capture.

The hovering stage flew closer toward the duo and then it moved beside Cheshire. Alice looked at the feline and then to Rocket.

“As Mctwisp already knows, this loop wasn’t my intention,” Alice said through gritted teeth. He held Cheshire with one hand by the cheeks and then forced him to look at Rocket. “I want you to know that all of this is his fault and no other. I want you to look at him and realize that the beast you so deeply admire is what got your friends killed—is what got Wonderland destroyed!”

Mctwisp was at the edge of the hovering stage—back faced on Alice as he pretended to be busy on the controls.

“Mctwisp, stop pretending to work and face us,” Alice said. It didn’t sound like a request or a rhetoric which then, Mctwisp took into a demand. Though he didn’t want to, he faced Alice.

The looney held Cheshire’s cheeks between her thumb and index fingers, tilting his head slightly lower to face the white rabbit.

“You’ve nothing to fear, my friend,” Alice said, “Look him in the eye and see that he’s smiling at you.”

Reluctantly, Mctwisp looked at Cheshire as his fingers constantly fiddled against each other.

“See?” Alice smiled, “He’s so happy to see you.”

“He’s not…” Mctwisp looked down. “He wants to kill me… as does everybody.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Alice withdrew her hand. “After I’m done with them all, you’ll finally have what you want. I have a message for everybody. Take the raccoon with us and remain the cat suspended where he is.”

Mctwisp turned to the control panel without hesitation—he was eager to escape Cheshire’s eyes that could already kill had he stayed longer. The hovering stage projected the same beam as the drones and it connected with Rocket. Not long after, they dragged Rocket behind them as they descended slightly below the battlefield.

“Rebels!” Alice spoke through a speaker, “This fellow I present to you is the cause of your demise. He is what began all of this. If you wish to be pardoned and live in my utopia, I’ll accept his death as your agreement.”

Shortly after, Alice flung Rocket on the ground, slamming the raccoon against the dirt. Rocket had no weapons, no tricks up his sleeve or anything to fend off the warriors. All he has were the pitiful eyes of Mallymkun and the Tweedles who were tied near a fallen ship, guarded by the Jubjub bird.

Mallymkun, although immobilized, got up and scurried on the ground, hoping to stop the approaching warriors in whatever way he could but the Jubjub bird caught him inside its talons and brought him back with the Tweedles.

“You’re all fools if you believe your enemy,” Mallymkun yelled.

“You’re all no better than Alice if you do this,” the Tweedles shouted in unison.

Rocket only tried to get up. He pushed himself up with his hands but faltered as he was damaged from his fall.

One warrior approached Rocket and picked him up. It was Baeley, holding a knife before Rocket’s neck.

“Alice!” Baeley yelled.

The hovering stage turned towards Baeley and Alice faced him with Mctwisp far behind with the controls. “My father, mother and siblings died in this war without knowing the true cause!” Baeley yelled, piquing the Xandarian’s attention.

Mallymkun was in the distance, perplexed and hurt by how Baeley turned out to be. “I thought you were much more than this, Baeley…” Mallymkun whispered to himself. He couldn’t watch Baeley anymore without thinking how such a pure spirit was easily tainted.

“But now I know the truth!” Baeley shouted, “As my warriors! You offer pardon for his death, aye?”

“It will be the proof of your loyalty to me,” Alice smiled. “Kill him and I shall pardon you and your warriors.”

Baeley tilted his head on Mallymkun and the twins. “And them?”

“They will be punished accordingly,” Alice chuckled.

“I’m doing this for all of us.”

“You’re in no position to bargain. Prove your loyalty to me or die with them.”

Baeley swallowed. “As you wish…”

Rocket groaned but didn’t resist. He was too weak to do anything else than let his sharp tongue do the action. “Your father would be so proud…” Rocket said sarcastically. “And you, you pink-skinned looney… bidding a kid to do your dirty work. Do you know how pathetic it sounds?”

“Not as pathetic as you gurgling in your blood.”

Baeley chortled and whispered on Rocket’s ear. “Aye, I know my father would be proud. Lariss! Now!”

It happened fast but the eyes still caught the image of an orange line that struck Alice’s hovering stage. It went past through the metal, damaging the engine. The hovering stage swerved in the air and descended low enough for another warrior to strike up.

Eyron struck the hovering stage with his axe. His weapon stuck midway at the material of the stage and he used it to climb up.

The axe-cyborg was twice the size of Alice and he easily overpowered the looney. Eyron locked his arms around Alice and turned her to face Lariss—whose arrow was pulled taught and focus ever so unperturbed.

Alice didn’t squirm but surrendered easily to Eyron’s lock. One hand, though, which Eyron failed to notice, was placed on a circular orb at the control panel of the stage. Once Lariss let his projectile loose—an arrow of heated admantium—Alice turned the orb and the whole stage rotated a hundred and eighty degrees.

The heated arrow struck Eyron on the back and even went past him but failed to penetrate Alice’s armor.

Eyron’s lock loosened and Alice simply walked behind him and pushed him off the hovering platform. Eyron’s gigantic body fell loudly against the dirt.

“E-eyron!” Lariss shouted.

Alice looked at the archer and pressed some buttons on the control panel. Through the archer’s stomach, burnt a laser that killed him instantly—from one of the drones behind him.

“Eyron… Lariss…” Baeley muttered. He flung the knife above him which Alice didn’t even have to evade and then bombarded the looney with electric blasts that hardly inflicted any damage.

Rocket was kneeling on the floor, eye caught in front of him to the dormouse and the Tweedles no longer where they were. The Jubjub bird seemed inactive—probably because Mctwisp couldn’t control it from the panel. Rocket noticed a particular hat idly resting on the dirt.

“B-baeley…” Rocket shouted. Forcing his strength, he dashed toward the bloodhound and grabbed him by the arm. Both of them were sprinting with Baeley having no idea where they were headed.

Alice was busy stabilizing her platform that she failed to notice the raccoon and the bloodhound escape.

They arrive at the place where the hat was placed. Just a few feet away from it was a tunnel.

“Go…” Rocket pushed Baeley.

“I’m not leaving, we’re at war!” Baeley said.

“You’ll die in this war!” Rocket groaned, still weak from his fall. “Live to fight another day.”

“Shouldn’t that apply to you as well?” Baeley was stubborn. “Come with me.”

Rocket sighed. “I won’t leave…” he nodded his head left and right. “Not while my whole purpose in this war is held captive by Alice. The key to this war is the infinity gem. Don’t ask what it is. Mallymkun and the others will know. It’s in the heart of Time.”

Before Baeley could say anything else, Rocket tackled him and the bloodhound fell in the hole. If he’s smart, he wouldn’t come back.

Rocket took Tarrant’s hat and dropped it in the hole. Back to the battlefield, he went.

***

Iracebeth, James and Tarrant rescued Mallymkun and the Tweedles. They were outside the barrier now and not long after, from the tunnel came another.

Baeley crawled to the light and Iracebeth and Tarrant helped him up.

“Baeley!” Mallymkun jumped toward the bloodhound, stationing on his shoulder and hugging him. “I thought you completely turned against us.”

“Nonsense…” Baeley returned Mallymkun’s hug with a finger. “Rocket gave me the key to ending this war although I’m not sure about what he said.”

“And what did Rocket say?” Mallymkun asked.

“An infinity gem,” Baeley wasn’t sure of the things coming out of his mouth. He was simply repeating what the raccoon told him. “It’s at the heart of time.”

The group was confused and surprised altogether.

“Heart of time?” Mallymkun felt confused.

Iracebeth joined in, “How can it be in the heart of time? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Perhaps it’s symbolic,” James said.

Tarrant disagreed. “I don’t take the raccoon for being poetic at any times,” he said. “At war or not, Rocket wouldn’t say anything abstract.”

“But he just did,” James retorted.

The Tweedles were quiet—deep among themselves discussing something.

“Rocket is a very literal fellow. Even his sarcasm is literal,” Mallymkun said.

“I don’t know the fellow,” Iracebeth followed, “Only that he’s very impulsive on account of what he did back at Crims palace when I tried to save him.”

Finally, the Tweedles broke silence.

“Rocket is very literal,” Tweedle Dum began and was followed by Tweedle Dee.

“So it means we should take what he said literally.”

The group was quiet for a moment.

“Fine, let’s take it literally,” Iracebeth folded her arms on her chest. “The infinity gem is at the heart of time. Time is abstract and if we are to make it literal, how can Alice place an infinity gem in something that doesn’t physically exist?”

“There’s more to that,” Mallymkun added, “The infinity gem of time is time itself. For it to be at the heart of itself, couldn’t it be with the rest? Only a fragment exists in this loop, I’m afraid.”

“No, no, no, perhaps we’re all looking at this wrongly,” Tweedle Dum said.

“So far, we are,” Tarrant commented.

Baeley joined in. “I don’t know what an infinity gem is,” he said, “Other than the idea of it being the key to end this all and it’s somewhere we don’t even know but I had a thought. What if the time Rocket referred to isn’t time itself? What if that time is something physical—perhaps a place?”

“The young lad makes a point,” James nodded his head and quickly thereafter, the Tweedles realized the answer in unison.

“The Oraculum,” they both said.

“The Oraculum?” Iracebeth couldn’t believe it. “Alice never managed to create the Oraculum.”

“We are the Oraculum,” the Tweedles said in unison.

Tweedle Dum continued, “Baeley is right—almost. Time is something physical.”

“The time Rocket referred to could be touched could be seen—could be sensed,” said Tweedle Dee.

Tweedle Dum bridged, “When Alice created Wonderland, she wanted to use the infinity gem to set a course of things to happen specifically and that’s where she tried putting the infinity gem in the Oraculum prototype—”

“—however she failed time and time again and with Rocket’s appearance, she almost died on the Frabjous day.”

“She had no choice but to reverse everything that happened so she may start again but because of the gem’s volatility—”

“—it trapped us in a loop instead. She exempted me to forget all the pasts and told my brother the futures—”

“—we became the Oraculum but Alice didn’t stop there…”

The Tweedles paused and then looked at each other. “Time is a machine,” they both said.

The group was awed—Baeley the most.

“Time is a machine,” Tarrant seemed convinced.

“The heart of Time means the heart of the machine!” Mallymkun concluded.

“Aye,” the Tweedles said.

“Where to find it though?” Tarrant asked.

Iracebeth and James stepped forward. “I think James and I know,” Iracebeth said. “The Clockwork town.”

“We must make haste though. Frabjous day is ending,” Tweedle Dum said.

Tweedle Dee followed. “If we don’t stop the loop, it’ll reset all over again.”

***

The Clockwork Town was but dying embers. It smelled of burnt flesh and wood but the flesh, more so. Ashen bodies were scattered in the town square as much as the mangled ones. None were better for the eye to see but the lesser sight beholden would be the burnt ones. At least, it was monochromatic and it lessened the gore than the ones missing their other half or their innards spluttered over the soil, drying with the mud.

Few robots were functional but hardly a threat. Their eyes glowed a dim red, targeting the group that made their way carefully through the town but couldn’t do anything more than twitch and spark out of life.

James and Iracebeth were affected most of all by the tragedy as they were the ones that were here when the buildings were bright red and orange. As if a recall, the ghosts of the dying citizens haunted them like actual sounds—almost too real to be heard in the silence.

Flashbacks were imminent. Once their eye catches the sight of a dead, the whole scenario of how that person died repeated in their minds as if they were guilty of not saving him. Perhaps they were… but then again, they couldn’t do anything about it. They salvaged as much as they could and took them to the forests where Alice wasn’t likely to find them.

“Where exactly do you lead us?” Tarrant tilted his head toward Iracebeth and James.

Iracebeth pointed in front of her. “There…”

In front of them all was a dark crevice—about the size of Alice’s hovering stage. It was lined with fine metal—smeared with blood. It could be James’s or Iracebeth’s or… Mirana’s. It was the same place where their battle took place—three of them against Alice. How she recalled losing not only the battle but her sister as well.

“An honorable woman, the white queen,” James remarked. “She had a heart as pure as her…”

“It could’ve been me,” Iracebeth whispered only for the two of them to hear. “I’m her older sister… I should be the one taken, not her.”

James sighed. “Your sister loved you very much.”

“And I love her—”

“No doubt you would have done the same for her if you were in her disposition,” James interjected. “That’s how love works. It’s not a matter of who’s older…” James shrugged. “Even I would trade my life if it meant saving you and her… it doesn’t sound like me but… other than Flash, Buck and Blue, you all became my home since imprisonment… before the madness, at least.”

“You’re fine now, are you not?”

“Thanks to Blue… somehow his asset doesn’t just heal wounds. I hope it could heal the screw loose in Alice’s head as well.”

Iracebeth chuckled.

“Guys!” Mallymkun shouted from Baeley’s shoulder. “We’re gonna have to climb down, apparently.”

James and Iracebeth were behind the group and after Mallymkun’s call, they lined with the others.

“That’s not a very deep fall,” Iracebeth remarked. “My cybernetic skeleton could withstand it.”

“Let’s not be irrational,” Baeley said but Iracebeth jumped anyway.

The red queen arrived at the bottom, unscathed. “The lab is clear! No enemies!” she shouted.

“Guess Alice must have relied on the drones to trap everyone there,” James laughed and somersaulted downward.

Tarrant followed as did the Tweedles until Baeley and Mallymkun are all that’s left to jump.

“Do you want me to go first or ride on you?” Mallymkun asked.

“I don’t think I can make that jump,” Baeley said.

“Of course you could,” Mallymkun cheered. “You have a cybernetic skeleton as we do all. Weren’t you aware of that?”

Baeley nodded to disagree.

“You’d be walking on four legs otherwise,” Mallymkun chuckled and then jumped from Baeley’s shoulder. “If a little mouse can do it, so can you,” Mallymkun yelled as he fell. He landed on the floor unscathed and looked up. “Come on!”

Baeley jumped and his fall was instantaneous. There wasn’t time for thoughts midair. One second he jumped, the next thing he was already on the floor kneeling. He was surprised though, at the capacity his knees withstood after falling from a height. He had a cybernetic skeleton yet his father was so protective of him from falling back at the haven.

He followed the others in darkness and got blinded by the sudden light.

“Found the switch,” James shouted.

The whole lab was lit up and all of them needn’t turn anywhere else to find what they were looking for. In front of them was a metallic coffin with wires—big and small—attached to it. A man was idly resting inside, dressed with pointed shoulder plates and a long cloak past his knee. He wore a tall hat—which Tarrant admired and even attempted critiquing.

“You’re more of a hatter now than a surgeon, I see,” Mallymkun laughed.

“I’m assuming that is Time?” Baeley asked.

The group kept their eyes at the machine and nodded their heads to agree with Baeley.

Iracebeth approached the coffin and punched a green button that opened it up. The door parted, hissing with steam coming out of the edges.

“Oh look,” she said, “His sternum is a clock. I’m guessing behind it is the gem.” She reached her hand towards the robot’s sternum but before she could make contact, the robot grabbed her arm.

It had a tight grip, seeing as Iracebeth couldn’t withdraw her arm. She jerked away but barely rattled the robot.

Time lifted Iracebeth up with one hand and then threw her aside. Iracebeth was sent flying against a metal wall.

The group took one step back as they assessed how the robot was going to attack.

“Infiltrators,” It said in a robotic manner.

Iracebeth got back up, rage building inside her after getting thrown to a wall. She lunged towards time with an outstretched foot, aiming to kick him off balance but the robot evaded. Time swung his arm to strike Iracebeth but the red queen blocked it with her forearm and punched forward with the other.

Time sidestepped and caught Iracebeth’s arm that punched. Before he could do anything else, Iracebeth twisted herself to elbow Time on the stomach. Time blocked with his palm and Iracebeth was completely restrained. He lifted her up once again and tossed her in the air.

Iracebeth fixed herself midair and landed with another kick. Time stepped away and Iracebeth struck the floor, denting the metal.

James joined in, aiding Iracebeth. The March hare, although small, proved himself to be a worthy opponent. Time couldn’t lock on James because of the hare’s impulsive and random fighting style. James managed to land blows on the robot but it was hardly enough to affect it.

James gave a flying kick and it was strong enough to push Time a step back. He withdrew with Iracebeth.

“He’s tough,” James said. “We can’t beat him in combat.”

“He’s heavy,” Iracebeth said. “Did you notice how difficult it is to bring him down? It could only be because he wouldn’t be able to get back up. I suggest we bring him lying on his back.”

Beside them, Tarrant lined with them. The dormouse was on his shoulder with a pointed adamantium rapier in his hand.

“Word from the Tweedles,” Tarrant whispered.

Time reacted and the moment he did, Tarrant quieted down.

Mallymkun jumped on Iracebeth’s shoulder. He whispered. “That robot is programmed to collect data as you fight it. It’s also intelligent enough to comprehend. The Tweedles are in the main computer, hacking it. We need to put him back inside his coffin.”

Iracebeth nodded. Mallymkun jumped on James’s shoulder next.

Tarrant took off his coat, exposing his cybernetic arm with clogs turning. “I’m not really a fighter,” he said, “and my arm isn’t really all that weak. It’s made of indestructible metal as well… just a little embarrassing that such a fine material was used with such a low class technology. Alice… what an insulting creature.” The mad hatter dropped his coat and formed a fighting stance. The clogs on his arm turned and steamed and then Tarrant struck first.

He charged toward Time, faking to strike with his flesh-arm. When Time evaded, Tarrant punched with his cybernetic arm instead. Time slid on the floor standing. His balance was well kept now but the mad hatter managed to damage him.

Iracebeth didn’t give a moment for Time to process his collected data and kept bombarding him with hard punches. When Time struck back, James was there to push the red queen out of the way. Time swiped his arm but caught nothing as the March hare somersaulted on the floor. James lunged toward the robot and merely kept his hand on Time’s shoulder.

Mallymkun crossed James’s arm and scurried all over the enemy.

The dormouse stood on top of Time’s hat, enticing the robot to strike its own head but for each strike, Mallymkun evaded, leading the robot to damage itself. Mallymkun scuttled on Time’s face and struck its eye with his rapier.

Not much damage was done but the visuals of the robot were reduced in half.

The robot caught Mallymkun and flung the dormouse in the air.

Baeley followed Mallymkun with his eyes and caught the dormouse just as he fell.

“You were amazing,” Baeley remarked.

Mallymkun chuckled, “Takes time to be good,” he joked.

The pleasantries were over for now, Time seemed much more powerful.

Tarrant attacked once again but the mad hatter was easily evaded and caught. Iracebeth came in to help but Time moved differently on the red queen’s approach. If previously, Time was sluggish, he moved much faster now and copied Iracebeth’s fighting style.

Time punched away Tarrant and dueled Iracebeth. James joined in but he was barely a nuisance to Time’s battle. The trio were overpowered and beaten.

Mallymkun scurried ahead, attempting to climb the robot but Time caught him and slammed him in the floor. Mallymkun lay unconscious before the foot of the robot. One leg, it raised up and was about to crush Mallymkun.

Out of instinct, Baeley charged. He knew that he couldn’t beat Time. Four veterans stood up against him and failed. What could he possibly do?

He didn’t have victory inside his mind when he charged. He didn’t charge because he thought he could beat the robot. He charged to save his friend’s life.

Baeley tackled the robot, locking his arms behind Time’s back and pushing with all his might. The robot barely moved and instead lifted his elbow and struck Baeley on the back. The bloodhound almost fell but he kept in mind all that he was fighting for and that’s what kept him standing.

Time struck again but Baeley kept on pushing. Soon, he felt Time budge and it was when he realized the mad hatter was beside him, his cybernetic arm pressed against Time’s chest. They were pushing together and they made little progress.

They pushed harder and then Time moved more now. Iracebeth was beside them. Not long after, James joined in. They all worked together to overpower the robot. Foot by foot, they pushed Time until he was near the entrance to his coffin.

“Iracebeth…” Tarrant groaned. “Strike behind his knees.”

Iracebeth followed. She kicked Time behind the knee and it made the robot bend over. Once out of his balance. They all pushed with all their might but Time still refused to go in. Mallymkun witnessed his friends working all together. He took a few steps back and then ran as fast as his four little legs allowed him to.

He scuttled up Baeley’s back and jumped to kick Time’s forehead. The robot was sent back inside his coffin.

Iracebeth immediately closed the door and Time fell to deactivate.

All five of them panted as a job well done in ending the battle.

Tweedle Dum walked in on them. “We hacked Alice’s computer,” he said.

“That explains your Cheshire smile?” Iracebeth remarked.

“You all would have your Cheshire smiles after we tell you that it’s not only that robot we managed to deactivate.”

They all looked at each other.

Tweedle Dee walked in. “The drones have been deactivated!”

Baeley’s eyes widened as did everybody’s.

“Alice has a complex computer system,” Tarrant couldn’t believe it but he was glad and smiling like the Cheshire cat—all of them were. “How did you manage to hack it?”

“It was barely hacking,” Tweedle Dum looked left and right.

Tweedle Dee presented a paper, “A list of all Alice’s passwords.”

“Where did you get that?” James asked.

“It seems our enemy the white rabbit isn’t actually our enemy.”

They all stand in silence. “Mc…twisp?” Mallymkun said.

“We don’t know the full story yet,” Tweedle Dee said, “But one thing is clear—he helped us.”

“Alice is still alive…” Tarrant trailed off.

“She’s as good as dead,” Tweedle Dum replied. “Mctwisp also left us the key into destroying Alice’s armor.”

“Now why would he do that?” Tarrant was the only one who seemed to be reacting negatively to the white rabbit’s heroism.

“Because he’s not Mctwisp…” James said. “He’s Buck Rabbit!” he smiled. “I know that fella all too well.”

Baeley walked in the center of the conversation. “Shouldn’t we all walk to the battlefield?” he asked. “My warriors are still there. Rocket and Cheshire are still there.”

“Right,” the Tweedles said in unison.

“Let’s take the infinity gem and head our way back,” Tarrant suggested. “Do we have a gurney over here?”

“I’m afraid we’re gonna have to carry that heavy robot ourselves,” Iracebeth groaned.

***

Rocket was helpless.

Alice set foot on the ground, finally. The remaining warriors charged at her but were easily overpowered and killed. Rocket could see the rage in Alice’s eyes—it wasn’t the first time he witnessed vengeful gazes melting him. He just didn’t know where the anger came from.

The Xandarian looney stood a foot away from the weak raccoon. She picked Rocket up with one hand by the scruff of Rocket’s suit and made him look at her.

It was definitely rage but with it something more.

“I was so close in finishing my world… so close,” Alice muttered. “And then you came along, destroying decades worth of my work.” She slammed the raccoon on the ground.

Rocket was met against metallic debris and dead carcasses, tainting him with blood and dirt. Alice picked him up once more and threw him on the air before awaiting his fall to land a kick. Rocket stumbled on the ground.

“I won’t kill you, rat,” Alice bent down and held Rocket up by the back collar. “Once I destroy your rebellion, I will start again. I have an infinity gem, what do you have?” Without waiting for Rocket’s reply, not that it hardly mattered, Alice coiled Rocket on the dirt.

The muffled reply of the raccoon resonated and Alice lifted Rocket’s head up so she could hear what he had to say.

“You’re pretty hungry for power.” Rocket spat dirt that got inside his mouth. “Even until now I still don’t understand your purpose of doing this.”

Alice dropped Rocket and got up. “Everything I make is perfect and everything I put in it must obey. Disobedience calls for retribution. You haven’t the capacity to understand.”

“Sounds to me like you don’t have the capacity to explain,” Rocket sat on the dirt and wiped his mouth. “You’re arrogant for someone who tries so little.”

“Tries so little?” Alice repeated, “I created the society you’ve witnessed and the people in it.”

“No, you abducted the people and forced them to live in this prison!” Rocket got up, knees weak. “I don’t think I need you to answer my question. It’s obvious.”

“Is it?” Alice turned to Rocket, eyes squinting.

Rocket panted and wiped away blood that trickled beside his eye. “You were nothing…you lived your life in fear that every day, you could die and nobody would even bat an eye… but you’ve tasted power—”

“You’re wrong!” Alice intervened.

“And after that, nothing ever felt better!”

“You know nothing, rodent!” Alice was almost yelling.

Rocket matched her tone and raised his voice. “You crawled your way to get where you are now! And with some luck, power came to you. So you tormented people—the very people you thought wouldn’t give a damn if you die because it made you feel good that the ones you thought were above you were now under your thumb.”

Alice gritted his teeth and bent down to grab Rocket. She locked her hand on Rocket’s neck and held him high. Rocket coughed. He tried to loosen Alice’s grip but she was too strong. It was the second time Rocket thought his life would fade and the second time he was saved.

The drones, which formed the barrier, fell one by one, piling at the edge of the battlefield. Alice looked around—to the shield that kept them inside.

“Mctwisp!” she looked over her shoulder to the hovering stage. “What happened?”

Mctwisp shrugged, “I’ve no idea, Alice… I’m guessing that the drones were shut down from the main lab.”

“The main lab…” Alice mumbled and then looked to the spaceship beside the dome where she kept her hostages. The Tweedles and the dormouse weren’t there anymore. “Impossible… how did they—” she turned to walk back to her platform when a smiling face met her.

“Alice…” Cheshire whispered. “I believe it’s time you drop the raccoon or there will be consequences.”

Alice gripped Rocket’s neck tighter, squeezing the life out of the raccoon and that’s when Cheshire resulted to violence. The cat pushed out his three pairs of sharp adamantium claws, swiping at the scientist.

Alice evaded and dropped Rocket along her action. Rocket pulled in a deep breath.

“I won’t vaporize you,” Cheshire landed on the ground and walked by foot, enticing Alice to backtrack. “My claws itch to penetrate your flesh.”

“You’re just another ingrate, Cheshire,” Alice smirked but fear was apparent on her face. “All of you are ingrates! I turned you all better and this is how you repay me?”

“If better is me wanting to kill you then aye, this is how I repay you.” Cheshire lunged at Alice, swiping successfully twice but Alice’s armor absorbed the damage and left her unscathed inside her armor.

The Xandarian pointed her finger at Cheshire and shot the cat in the leg.

Cheshire groaned as he knelt down but he got back up, flesh closing up as fast as it was punctured.

Alice activated many weapons in her armor—all lethal and all successfully hitting the Cheshire cat but it was all of no effect. Cheshire vanished into smoke and then reappeared behind Alice, swiping at her. He vanished once again, appearing beneath Alice and struck again. Cheshire appeared and disappeared, bombarding Alice with attacks on all directions as though as he blinked from one area to the other.

Alice tanked the damage but the more the cat attacked, the more she began to feel it working. She activated a barrier that encased her in a small bubble. It was impervious to any physical attacks. Not even the heated adamantium arrows were able to penetrate it.

Cheshire clawed at the outside again and again until he realized that it was futile.

Alice watched as Cheshire disappeared into a cloud of smoke and after a while, nothing seemed to happen until her shield evaporated, exposing her once more.

 _My treacherous little pet,_ Alice thought. But she wasn’t ready to give it up all.

“You won’t destroy me,” Alice laughed.

“You won’t win,” Cheshire said, “Look at you. You’ve no allies but a traitorous white rabbit who is of no use to you at all.”

“I never won,” Alice laughed. “Haven’t Rocket or at least one of the twins told you? I always lost the battles. And I will lose this one as well. It doesn’t matter though… the infinity gem sits idly in one place, ready to reset this loop.”

Cheshire jumped on Alice and clawed at her manically.

Alice activated her electric field and Cheshire was caught by surprise.

“But don’t worry, Chess. Once the loop resets, I won’t have you forget your experiences,” Alice said grimly, “We will go back to the day before I put those radiators on your back and I will perform the same twenty experiments on you. After that, I’ll ensure you won’t be able to escape and then I’ll capture your precious raccoon. I will pump Jabberwocky’s venom inside his system until he turns mad or savage, whichever of the two and I will place him on the same cell as you.

And then… it will either be kill or be killed. I’ll enjoy watching your face as you decide whether to kill him or not and I’ll savor every expression you make as you push your claws inside him.”

“The only thing you’ll enjoy is my claws inside your neck. I doubt you’ll enjoy that,” Cheshire got up, “It would be too quick though.”

Alice smiled. Only a few minutes remain until the reset.

Steam escaped from Alice’s suit and thereafter, its tight clasp on the looney’s skin sagged.

Cheshire took the opportunity and ran his claws on the armor once again. Like scratching paper, he managed to cut through. Purplish blood tainted his claws and Alice watched three lines mark her stomach.

“H-how…” Alice gasped and then turned to her hovering platform. A dormouse was at the control panel, aided by the white rabbit. _My traitorous little rabbit,_ Alice whispered to herself. Not that it mattered, the loop would reset any time now.

She lay flat on the ground and watched as the sky slowly return to its natural state. Nothing happened minutes after that. She looked around her and below her hovering platform was Time—her machine, taken by her guinea pigs.

Cheshire stepped in front of Alice’s view. He sat on top of the looney and looked her straight in the eyes.

“I know I said I’d do it slowly,” Cheshire whispered. “But I’m not like you.”

Alice lifted herself up to try and reason with the cat but Cheshire’s claws found its way inside her throat as she got up. Alice is dead.

It was over.


	33. Futterwacken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really like the word Futterwacken xD

Cheshire stood on Alice’s body, staring at her peaceful face. If anyone who didn’t know them would step inside the scenario, he would think Cheshire was the villain. Perhaps he was… in Alice’s point of view. The contempt Cheshire built up over the years subsided but not as what he thought it would be like.

The blades inside his hands always itched. It always wanted to find its way through Alice’s flesh and now that it did, it stopped itching. Alice was evil yet she looked so innocent now that she was sleeping. Who was he even to judge Alice as evil? Cheshire was evil but Alice was a monster.

A monster finding an evil creature was the best thing that could ever happen. If Alice hadn’t captured him and his friends, the guardians would be hunting them. Of course, that was just wishful thinking. As Rocket said, there’s no justice in what Cheshire did. It also applied with Alice. But the milk has been spilled now… best to just move on.

The canopy of dark clouds subsided, revealing the sky splashed with an orangey hue. The rays of the sun lined the heavens just as its last light cast their shadows behind them. Few of the warriors remain and like them, they all stared at the sunset…almost.

The Tweedles managed to deactivate Time’s automatic reset of the loop. It could be that now, they were returning to the original timeline and there’s no guarantee when that was.

Rocket could feel it… he could feel himself go away.

“That’s it?” Rocket groaned, catching Cheshire’s attention. “After you finish fighting, you don’t even check up on me?”

Cheshire turned and then captured Rocket before the injured raccoon could fall on the ground. He placed Rocket’s arm around his neck and helped him up.

“I’ll heal you…” Cheshire said.

“No,” Rocket immediately refused. “I want to have these scars… as a reminder that this really happened… that you really exist.”

A breath escaped Cheshire. Of course. For a moment, he forgot that Rocket was just anchored by the infinity gem. And now that the loop is broken, they were slowly returning to the original timeline.

“Will I see you again?” Cheshire asked.

Silence ensued.

They were both afraid of saying it. Cheshire was just much braver than Rocket seeing as he asked that unspoken thing.

Rocket shrugged. “I don’t know how the infinity stones work…” he said. They looked towards Alice’s platform—James held Mctwisp under his arm and scratched the white rabbit’s head with his knuckle as the little dormouse cheered for him.

“Who knew?” Cheshire said under his breath, “That Mctwisp had been on our side all along?”

Rocket snorted. “That white rabbit really has a strong spot for you.”

“It almost sounded like you were jealous.” Cheshire pulled Rocket close by the side of the waist.

“Like hell I would be jealous,” Rocket chortled.

They looked towards Baeley and Iracebeth. The young bloodhound lead the red queen to the body of her sister just as the warriors marched, carrying the body of their previous chief. Tarrant was with the Tweedles, tinkering with the robot, probably thinking of how to control it.

The battlefield was a pile of bodies and destroyed machinery—the fruit of their rebellion. After resetting for so many times, they were finally free.

“What now?” Cheshire broke the unobtrusive silence. In truth, he was afraid—more than ever. As if war hadn’t been a good enough reason for him to be afraid.

Rocket swallowed. He limped towards a clear area while Cheshire assisted him. “I guess you watch me disappear?” Rocket said half-jokingly. “It would be a nice change after watching you vanish all the time.”

“Don’t say that…” Cheshire’s voice was hoarse.

Rocket didn’t expect that. Even as he had grown to understand Cheshire by heart just as he understands Groot’s ‘I am Groot’, he was still caught by surprise when Cheshire was much sadder than he appeared to be.

“Your smile bested me again,” the raccoon said. “I guess I’ve only grown used to seeing it on you. It’s still so deceiving.”

“I’m done…” Cheshire laughed wryly, “I’m done smiling…I can finally have Tarrant remove these hinges.”

Rocket pinched Cheshire’s chin and made the cat look at him. “I’d like that…”

It was twilight—the sky was mostly dark and the last trace of day was in the far west. The Cheshire moon was above them just as two other moons which Rocket failed to notice before. The raccoon got up.

“I guess I’m going now…”

“So soon?” Cheshire asked. “I still have a lot of things I want to do—things I want to know…”

Rocket limped in front of Cheshire, placing both hands on the cat’s shoulders. “We’ll do them…” Rocket said. He was less opaque now—almost hollow that Cheshire could see past him.

Cheshire closed in on Rocket and slightly bent up to meet the raccoon’s ear. “Fairfarren, my love,” he whispered and backed away.

The colors of Wonderland faded. The sky turned monochromatic as the ground desaturated to grayscale. Cheshire’s blue color faded and left him flat. A dot of light outshone the grayness of the canvas and it homed for Rocket, almost blinding him.

As it swallowed him, he awoke with a hypnic jerk—as if his soul departed the body and was pulled back in.

“If you’re gonna sleep, do it in your quarters, man,” Peter said. “You’re gonna drop my Zune from the table.”

Rocket was back at the Milano—below deck. He lied on the table which he claimed to do his work. Piles of junk were on top of it as well as Peter’s Zune that almost fell from the edge. Drax sat on a crate across him, paused from sharpening his blade as he looked at Rocket solemnly.

“It seems as though as you have awakened from a nightmare.” Drax froze a minute before exploding into laughter. “What a truly entertaining sight to behold,” he said through the gap of his laugh. “A tough creature you claim yourself to be, frightened to consciousness by mere figments of the mind!”

“I am Groot.” A hand found its way on Rocket’s shoulder.

“I’m fine, buddy.” Rocket was panting subtly, “Just as Drax said—a nightmare.” It was hardly that anymore though, Rocket wasn’t sure. Everything was vague as if the information inside his mind was jumbled. There was difficulty in recalling the past.

“How could you possibly have a nightmare in such a short span of time?” Gamora asked. She leaned on a wall before the stairs to the piloting area, arms folded on her chest.

“How long was I out?” Rocket returned.

“An hour—”

“An hour?!” Rocket was surprised. For some reason, it felt more than that. There were sensations sticking around with him similar to days that stretched usually longer. There were vague memories—too vague and were just abstract—about something colored blue… or was it a name or a place?

“What are you so surprised about?” Peter asked, “You complained about not having enough sleep so you slept while you were working.”

Rocket thought for a while and then he remembered. He did complain about not getting enough sleep. Everything after that was a haze.

“Did you dream about something important?”

“I don’t recall…” Rocket answered but at the corner of his mind, something was definitely hiding. He longed for something he didn’t know. His hands were finding something he wasn’t sure about and the most annoying part was his lips feeling so cold without a reason. “I remember experiences like floating in the air… or my hands finding another.”

“That almost sounded poetic coming from you,” Drax retorted seriously.

“What’s surprising about it is that it’s actually sincere,” Peter said.

“I am Groot,” Groot seconded.

Rocket growled. “I’m trying to recall something important here and you’re all distracting me.”

“It sounded to me like you were in love,” Gamora interjected.

Rocket gave out a sarcastic laugh, filling the entire room with its _authenticity_. “Me, in love?” Rocket asked as if it was the most absurd thing ever. “Even if I were, what would you know about it? You and Peter haven’t even gotten together though it’s obvious Star-munch likes you.”

“Woah, woah, woah, this isn’t about me, man,” Peter interjected.

“So what?” Rocket hissed, “It’s true so don’t try and tell me anything about something as pathetic as that.”

“I…am…Groot?” Groot’s words caught Rocket off guard but not enough to actually convince the raccoon.

Rocket grunted, “If it was Lylla…I’d know.”


	34. Dreams and Sensations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, the story ends...

_Thick fog surrounded him as though he were drowning in an ocean. Ashen trees with skeletal branches whipped the sky as the chorus of the wind howled ominously in the background. The sky was grayish—a darker silver with the hint of rain incoming._

_A fervent chuckle whooshes by with the wind that brushed his fur. It felt almost like a caress, the touch of the wind. There was longing with him—an urge to chase the laughter that either taunted him or called him._

_The first steps in the fog were strides in clouds. The cold went past his suit and fur, biting his skin hard. Unknown objects went under his feet. His steps were guesses to what he couldn’t see but he went forward without hesitation._

_And then it was dark. His feet parted with the ground as everything became blank in the black. He was gliding in the air—the sensation so very familiar… until he was descending rapidly._

Rocket woke up as though as he fell from thousands of feet. Groot was already awake before the bed of the raccoon in the quarter they shared. He looked at Rocket with confusion and worry, jumbling his expression.

“I am Groot?” he asked and bent down to meet the raccoon face to face.

“It was nothing…” Rocket panted. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes and groaned. Thereafter, he slipped out of his blankets and walked out of the room, leaving Groot before he could say anything else.

Rocket walked past Peter as though as the Terran wasn’t there at all. The raccoon didn’t even bat an eye to Peter as though the man was invisible or possibly nothing.

Peter turned his body toward Rocket as he watched the grumpy Procyon make the corner of the hall. Groot was following Rocket, almost bumping onto Peter along the way.

“What’s his problem?” Peter asked Groot.

“I am Groot,” Groot said.

Peter planted his hands on his hips and sighed. “Again?” he asked, “As in exactly the same dream again?”

Groot nodded.

The duo stood in silence for a moment. Ever since Rocket woke up _that_ day, he’s never been the same. Being much quieter was actually pretty comfortable for Peter but it felt dangerously unnatural. On the times when Rocket did break silence, he was bursting—too wild to be talked out of reason.

Rocket stationed below deck to his working table. He kept his area messy of piles of motor parts and other junk. He worked on a small robot with a wind up key attached in its back. The clogs that made it function were exposed through the gaps of its joints and Rocket enjoyed winding it and watching it creak as its last turns make it move. He had no idea why it entertained him so much… it just did. Watching it had an amusement he never quite appreciated before.

Groot came in from the stairs, turning toward Rocket with the same face the raccoon had woken up to. Groot made his way toward Rocket’s working area where Rocket was slumped on his table, face cushioned by his hands as he watched the small robot move creakily.

“I…am Groot,” Groot pulled out a crate which he sat on.

Rocket straightened his back, picking up the small robot. “Clockwork tech is very basic, buddy…” Rocket sighed, “Anyone could make it.”

“I am Groot?”

“Where did I get the idea?” Rocket repeated. He didn’t quite think of it before. Where did he get the idea? Rocket opened his mouth to reply but found that he didn’t know what to say. His jaws paused to open as he realized that nothing could be put to words to explain his sudden interest in clockwork technology.

“I’ve wanted to ask the same thing,” Peter joined in, appearing from the stairs.

Rocket’s brows furrowed to the center of his face and he placed the small robot on his table but didn’t let go of it. He let out an exasperated sigh.

“What’s it to you, Star-munch?” Rocket snarled.

“I just wanted to know why you’ve been so cranky lately,” Peter said.

Rocket rolled his eyes, pretending to work on the piles of junk he kept on his table. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Peter sighed. “Look, Rocket, if something is troubling you, you’re free to tell us. You don’t have to hide it.”

“Mind your own business, Quill and I’ll mind mine,” Rocket growled. “If you’re so keen on helping me, start by shutting up. You’re fricking annoying.” Rocket got up and grabbed whatever junk he could reach for on the table. Past Quill, he walked but Star-Lord blocked him with a hand.

“Why are you being like this?” Peter whispered and slightly pushed Rocket a few steps back. “Something’s bothering you… I know there is.”

Rocket looked up to Peter, matching his gaze. “Aye…something is and you don’t have to fricking know about it.” Rocket walked past Peter and went upper deck, leaving him and Groot.

Peter looked up, as confused as he had ever been and then looked at Groot. “Aye?” Peter repeated, “First time I’ve heard him say that word.”

***

Rocket wasn’t sure if he was haunted by dreams or nightmares. As far as the other guardians were concerned, Rocket was suffering from post-traumatic stress episodes. For the raccoon, however, it wasn’t that. The dreams he kept on reliving night after night—it was bliss. Lost was the perfect term to describe his situation every night on that place yet it felt so familiar…so completing.

Rocket only told Groot about what he exactly dreamed about but out of Groot’s worry, he’s been sharing the details with Peter and the others. Peter was concerned most of all and didn’t know what to do about his acerbic friend.

One day, Peter confronted Rocket about what was really happening. Below deck, on the raccoon’s messy table, Peter approached.

Rocket was busy tinkering. Peter guessed that the raccoon was making another bomb or another weapon but the raccoon was busy making clockwork robots. He already had a collection standing idly by the corner of his table.

Peter sat on a crate and the raccoon only looked at him for a second before returning back to his work.

“What are you making?” Peter began.

“I know you’re here for something,” Rocket said. “Spit it out, Quill. I’m busy and don’t want to be disturbed.”

Peter swallowed and munched his lips. “Alright… that went more straightforward than I anticipated,” he coughed to adjust his voice. “Before you say anything, I want you to know that I’m doing this because I’m worried about you.”

Rocket sighed and dropped whatever he was doing—slamming his tools on the table before folding his arms in front of his chest. “Your worry is wasted on me and your worry costs my time so why don’t you just run along?”

Peter swallowed. He bit back, thinking of the raccoon’s wellbeing above his temper. “You’re not telling Groot anything and he’s your closest friend—”

“And you expect to get something from me not even Groot knows?” Rocket interjected. “Something’s bothering me, you’re gonna say that and straight on, I’m gonna tell you that something is but I’m going to tell you two things, Quill: I don’t know what’s bothering me other than you and even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Why?” Peter asked the moment Rocket finished.

Rocket gritted his teeth. That single word sounded so provoking either because he didn’t know the answer himself or he didn’t want to open up with Peter.

Peter asked again. “Why?”

Rocket didn’t want to answer but the longer he stayed quiet, the more annoying Peter got, asking over and over again until Rocket had enough.

“I don’t know either!” Rocket bursts, clawing the side of his head as though he was pulling the skin down. “Ever since I woke up that day, something is missing and I don’t know what!” Rocket heaved in a breath and let it out. “I shouldn’t even care about it but here I am, tormented for weeks now by something I don’t understand…by something I don’t even know!”

Peter saw the agony in Rocket’s eyes. The raccoon was crying and hurting himself, pulling his ears down and kicking whatever was in his mid. It was a first—witnessing Rocket lose himself and it was miserable. He didn’t like watching the tough raccoon crumble.

“There,” Rocket wiped his nose, “I told ya. Now what? What’s your concern gonna do?” Rocket jumped out of his platform and was headed upper deck but Peter stopped him on his tracks.

“Groot told me about your dreams…” Peter said.

“So?”

“You find yourself surrounded by fog in a dead forest with black trees…” Peter began, “A year ago, you told us you got lost in an unknown planet which description exactly suited your dream. Do you think your dream and that place are somehow connected?”

Rocket only shrugged.

“What did happen when you got lost there?” Peter asked.

Rocket looked down… recalling the event. “I was sucked in a wormhole that brought me to that planet. It was in another universe. My ship landed in the middle of that forest and I scoured the area to find anything I could use to repair my ship.”

“And what did you find?”

“I found a crate lying somewhere near the crash zone. It had all the necessary parts so I fixed my ship and returned home.”

Peter was quiet for a moment. “Just like that? You just found a crate in the middle of a forest?”

 “It could have been anybody’s,” Rocket wiped his nose. “I didn’t care. I needed it so I used it.” He walked out.

***

There were times when Rocket would go out. The other guardians didn’t know where Rocket would go just that, after his return, the raccoon would be extremely tired and less interactive. Peter and the others were concerned so they spied on the raccoon one time when he went out again.

Peter tracked the ship Rocket used and placed a camera he was able to navigate remotely. The raccoon jumped from flashpoint to flashpoint until he arrived at a planet similar to Terra. There were trees, stretching tall to the sky and vegetation reaching as far as the eye could see.

Peter and the others watched keenly as Rocket landed his ship and went out. The guardians expected something mysterious the raccoon was about to do.

Rocket climbed a tall tree and sat on its branch, feet dangling. He just sat and looked at the sky. Not much could be gathered from Rocket’s expressions—he looked neutral the whole time. Peter and the others waited for something they didn’t know but expected but the raccoon just sat for hours until it was night in the planet. That was when the raccoon returned to his ship and was travelling back to the others.

When they asked where Rocket’s been, the raccoon grunted, saying, “Somewhere…”

***

Rocket dug among the pile of junk he retrieved from Knowhere about a year ago. He was emptying the crate because he wanted to place all the clockwork robots he made in it. He picked up item by item, piling them around him until he noticed an orb lying at the bottom of the crate with a paper beneath it.

Rocket recognized the orb as something similar to what the infinity stone of power was contained in. He had speculations but it was just that…nothing he could really confirm unless he opens it. He took the note inside his hand, weathered over time. Rustic blots collected on the sides but didn’t blur out the text, thank goodness.

_If you’re reading this, it means you found the orb. An infinity gem is contained inside. If you’re wondering how it winded up in your crate…a cat put it there. Don’t wonder how or when… best to just leave it that way._

_I’d tell you we already met but we never did. I remember you though from memories of things that never happened. It’s senseless, I know but… for all the love you gave me, for the happiness, for the pleasure you’ve given me and everything else… thank you._

_Fairfarren, Rocket._

Rocket flipped the paper back and forth, hoping to find more but found nothing less. The voice that read the note inside his mind—it wasn’t his. He was surprised of the familiarity and he kept on reading the note over and over again just listening to that posh voice but the voice was lost the more he thought about it. In the end, he was just left with something to haunt him even more—who wrote the note? And why did he speak as though as Rocket loved him?

Peter walked in on the raccoon in tears.

“Quill…” Rocket swallowed, “What’s a cat?”

***

The guardians were in Xandar. After discovering an infinity gem idly sitting inside Rocket’s crate for a year, they had to do what was right and let the Nova Corp contain the artifact. Peter and Gamora discussed how the orb came into their possession although it was supposed to be Rocket’s job. The raccoon didn’t want to be bothered as he kept on rereading the note again and again.

Drax leaned on a wall with Rocket just beside him. Groot watched curiously as Rocket clung on to the weathered page as if it meant the world to him.

“Why do you keep that piece of paper?” Drax asked.

“I don’t know. What’s it to you?” Rocket returned.

“I am Groot,” Groot said.

Drax laughed. “A love letter? Truly surprising that an obnoxious little beast like you would get affection from another being.”

Rocket looked at Drax sharply. “It’s not a love letter…” he mumbled.

“I… am Groot.”

Drax’s laughter died out suddenly. “My apologies… I did not know.”

“Nobody died,” Rocket groaned and then added in a while… “Well, I’m not sure. I hope so…”

***

 The guardians were headed to Contraxia on Quill’s order. Star-Lord claimed to have figured out where the source of Rocket’s crankiness was coming from and he knew exactly what Rocket needed to feel relaxed and be back with his self.

Groot, Drax, Gamora and Peter grouped up, leaving the raccoon alone in his area with the piece of paper he protected.

“Alright,” Peter said, “I think the reason why Rocket’s feeling this way is because he’s lonely and we need to get that loneliness off him.”

“How do you suggest we do that?” Drax asked, “Loneliness isn’t tangible. We cannot simply take it off him.”

“Not physically, Drax.” Gamora said and then looked at Peter. “What do you suggest we do in cheering him up?”

“Pleasure robots.” Peter tried to contain his smile. “I already set our coordinates to Contraxia. He’s gonna be so surprised—”

“I am Groot…” Groot trailed off.

“I agree with Groot.” Gamora folded her arms and then turned to Peter. “It isn’t what the raccoon needs.”

“How can it not be what Rocket needs?” Peter returned. “One week without touching anyone, I feel really cranky…” Peter bit his lower lip as Gamora’s eyes widened on him. “I mean… that was before I met you… which is also why I’ve been so cranky lately.”

“Why would I care about your affairs?”

“Because of that unspoken thing between us…” Peter trailed off.

“Peter this isn’t about us… this is about Rocket,” Gamora sighed.

Peter nodded his head and then looked over to the raccoon who was unaware of their conversation, tranced by that piece of paper. He turned back to Gamora. “I’ve been trying to help him ever since he changed. Peter’s tone was low. “I’ve been trying to approach him, ask him what was wrong, try and get inside him. I tried and I’m still trying. What about you, Gamora? What did you do other than ignore him all the time?”

Gamora swallowed. It wasn’t at all like what Peter made it sound like to be. She was concerned for Rocket as was Peter and Groot and Drax but unlike them, she doesn’t act if she doesn’t know. “If you help Rocket by approaching him, I help by ignoring him.”

“How is that helping?” Peter asked which Gamora answered immediately.

“I’m giving him space,” Gamora hissed. “He’s thinking of what’s bothering him—”

“Is he? To me, he looks like he’s just reading,” Drax intercepted.

“Shut up, Drax,” Gamora almost yelled. She continued, “Anytime, he could figure out what’s bothering him and I don’t want to be the person that would interrupt his focus when he does.”

Peter planted his hands on his hips. “Alright… what do you think he needs?”

Gamora walked to Peter and placed a hand on his shoulder. “A drink and some time alone. We’ll go to Contraxia and find a quiet pub. We’ll station away from him and let him drink and think.”

“I…am Groot,” Groot agreed.

“Very well then,” Peter said.

“Could we find a pub with a nice gambling spot?” Drax followed.

***

They chose the quietest pub they could find. Drunks were either quiet or noisy. It takes only a good eye to find which bar contains what type of drunks. The pub was a two storey building—seeming like an inn secondarily.

The guardians entered, eyes exploring every direction.

The owner, whom they guessed was the fat lady behind the counter, welcomed them with a waving hand. Her smile was frivolous and her face, inviting as though as she barely had any customers. With a pleasure house nearby, her business doesn’t really stand out. But it was hardly the reason why her face seemed so lively.

She was looking at Rocket the whole time—her smile solely on the raccoon.

“Come,” she invited, “What can I get for ya? Ale?”

Rocket jumped on a barstool by the counter. “Anything that dulls the mind,” Rocket said.

“Ale it is then,” the fat woman strode as if she was standing on a wheeled platform.

Peter and Gamora went upstairs—probably to a balcony where they could dance with nobody seeing. Drax found a group in the far corner of the room gambling with cards and he demanded that they teach him how it worked. Groot was beside Rocket, smiling at the raccoon.

“I am Groot,” he said.

Rocket nodded, “Just make sure that Drax doesn’t bet any large units.” Thereafter, Groot joined Drax.

The fat lady, swooshed in front of Rocket, placing a mug of ale in front of the raccoon. Rocket peeked beneath her, eager about the platform she stood in but saw nothing but her complicated lower half of cybernetic technology.

“You know, cybernetic feet don’t cost many units,” Rocket said. “You could get a pair for ten-thousand.”

The fat lady chuckled. “Walking isn’t how I go,” she said in a funny accent. “Y’know, I’ve been used to wheels for years that _never_ happened.”

Rocket took what the woman said figuratively and paid no mind to it. “It would be good for running on flat surfaces,” Rocket said. “On snowy grounds like outside—useless.”

“Aye…it is…” she nodded her head and bent down to grab a tablecloth. She began wiping mugs.

Rocket looked at the woman for the last time. For some reason, the woman had the same vibe as the letter he kept or perhaps it was the similar enigma. The raccoon lifted the mug of ale and sipped—there he stopped as the taste spread across his tongue. It wasn’t that good of a drink… Rocket’s tasted better but it tasted familiar. And with that familiarity was a sensation that made his heart race. Something hurtful blocked his throat, preventing him from swallowing any more.

He set the mug on the table, recalling where he’s tasted it before but nothing came to mind.

“What’s the matter, lad?” the fat lady asked, “Are you not an ale fella?”

“No, no…” Rocket coughed to expel the hideous sensation balling inside his throat. “I-it’s good…” he stammered and then took the mug and chugged the ale, finishing it in seconds. Thereafter, he ordered another.

***

Rocket and the fat lady, whom Rocket found later on was named Lourdes, became good friends. The guardians became a frequent visitor of Contraxia—to the same pub. Rocket always seated on the same spot, ordering mugs of ale to pass the night as he conversed eagerly with Lourdes.

The other guardians were happy for Rocket. The raccoon became much better and reverted back to his old self. Rocket returned to being the acerbic little jerk they all knew and it felt so right. It was the obtrusive rudeness Rocket possessed that made him who he was and not his brooding a few weeks back.

On another occasion, the guardians went to Contraxia once again for another night in the pub. The moment Peter and the others walked through the door, they all went to their favorite areas. Drax and Groot became good friends with the gamblers and played cards with them whenever they were in the pub. Peter and Gamora danced on the second floor balcony, working out on their unspoken thing.

Rocket’s place was on the barstool with Lourdes. This night however, was different. Rocket was stopped on his tracks when a certain group of people and animals were huddled by his favorite area. All the barstools were occupied with cheerful laughs and joyful toasts.

Lourdes laughed with the group and Rocket felt out of place. It could be Lourdes’s friends for all he knew. Rocket was about to turn back when he heard Lourdes’s voice call him.

“Rocket, join us!” she yelled.

The cheerful noises subsided as Rocket turned back. “I don’t want to interrupt your celebration,” Rocket said, “I’ll just occupy table one. A mug of ale for me, Lourdes.”

“Nonsense.” Lourdes wheeled out of her counter and toward Rocket. He touched Rocket behind the head, slightly pushing him to join the group until the raccoon was just steps before them.

Rocket whispered to Lourdes, “My favorite seat is taken,” he said.

“Is this your favorite seat?” a blue cat was looking over his shoulder to Rocket. “Take it,” he said.

Rocket opened his mouth to disagree but was stopped when the feline floated in the air.

“I don’t really have to sit… I just wanted to,” he smiled at Rocket.

Rocket climbed the seat.

Awkward gazes locked on him. The only one that seemed to avoid eye contact with Rocket was the blue cat floating on the other side of the counter. Everything became weighty when Lourdes left to retrieve a mug of ale for Rocket.

Lourdes came back, placing the mug before Rocket.

“Why’re you all quiet?” Lourdes chuckled. “I think I know…” Lourdes trailed off. “Rocket, these are my friends.” Lourdes began introducing them. She started with the goggled white rabbit beside Rocket.

“This fella is Mctwisp ‘ere,” Lourdes said, patting the rabbit on the back.

Mctwisp laughed sheepishly and waved awkwardly at Rocket. “Pleasure to meet you…” he stretched a hand which Rocket ignored.

“On your other side,” Lourdes pointed, “Is James von Hare.”

Rocket turned to the vested hair with multiple gun holsters at the belt. James smiled a buck teeth smile at Rocket which the raccoon returned with a simple curt nod.

A small dormouse scuttled on the counter, stationing beside Rocket’s mug as if to have a closer look on the raccoon.

“This here is Mallymkun,” Lourdes said.

“I believe we have un-met already,” Mallymkun laughed joyously and scurried away.

Lourdes pointed to a hatted cyborg behind Mctwisp’s barstool. “That there is Tarrant,” she said and then gestured to twins behind James’s barstool. “Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee.”

“Ellow,” the twins said at the same time.

“Iracebeth and Mirana.” Behind Rocket. “And Bayard and Baeley.” Not far on the counter.

Rocket gulped the mug of ale to ease the awkwardness when he remembered that Lourdes forgot to introduce the last one.

“What about—” Rocket pointed midair to where the floating cat was but found that he wasn’t there anymore.

“I believe it’s time for us to go,” Mctwisp pulled out a pocket watch and jumped off the barstool. One by one, they bade their farewell to Rocket until it was just Lourdes and Rocket on the counter.

“They’re a very fine bunch,” Lourdes chortled and winked at Rocket. “I know y’don’t make friends very much but you’ll become very close to them as you never have.”

Rocket chuckled. “There we go again with your never-haves. Seriously, Lourdes, you gotta explain that to me. From the first time you said that, I didn’t quite get what it really meant.”

“It’s not a figure of speech, lad,” Lourdes smiled, “It means what it means.”

Rocket was about to ask something but the woman dashed out of the counter and out of eye view.

Rocket sighed and drank his ale.

“It’s very literal…” a voice sounding posh whispered.

Rocket looked around him but found that no one was there. Grey smoke wafted on a barstool beside Rocket and from it, materialized the blue cat from earlier.

Somehow, it didn’t seem so surprising for Rocket as if he’s already seen it before but he was sure that it was his first time seeing something like that.

“Your friends are gone, shouldn’t you be too?”

“They won’t leave until first light,” the cat replied. “But I understand if you want some time alone—”

“Stay,” Rocket said firmly, almost sounding like an order. He didn’t anticipate himself to say that. Perhaps it was the alcohol. Just a while back, the strangers all shared the same vibe as Lourdes’s. They all seemed familiar but not quite so.

The cat stayed. Rocket didn’t speak to him. They sat in silence, with nothing else they could really do. There was no awkwardness but rather familiarity as if they were friends.

An hour of silence, the cat finally decided to leave. He jumped out of the barstool.

“It was nice sitting—”

“It wasn’t,” Rocket interjected, “Don’t lie. We didn’t talk or do anything.”

“No…” the cat whispered, “It really was nice being with you again.”

Rocket turned down to the cat. “Again? I don’t recall being with you before.”

“Because it’s your first time being with me,” the cat said and faked a laugh. “Don’t believe words from a stranger. I could be messing with you right now. _Fairfarren_ to you and your friends.”

Rocket’s ears perked up to the word. He jumped out of the barstool and followed the cat behind. Before the cat could walk out, Rocket stopped him on his tracks.

“What did you say?” he asked.

The cat half-turned. “Fair travels,” the cat turned to the exit once again.

“No,” Rocket protested, “The exact word.”

The blue cat swallowed. He fully turned toward Rocket and walked to him. Slightly tipping up, he met the raccoon’s ear and whispered, “ _Fairfarren_.”

Rocket’s arms embraced the cat out of reflex after hearing the word. His mind was a storm—he couldn’t bring reason to what his body was doing. He just found himself doing it. “You wrote the letter…” Rocket gasped.

The cat returned Rocket’s embrace, crying behind the raccoon. “Aye… I did…” his voice sounded hoarse.

“Why do I seem like I know you?” Rocket’s voice became hoarse as well. The cat was familiar—so familiar and yet not. The words written on the note were lies for all Rocket knew. He didn’t recall loving a cat or meeting one until now. And yet somehow, all those times he found himself believing those lies.

“Because you knew me but never did,” the cat embraced Rocket and nuzzled his face on Rocket’s neck.

“You sound like Lourdes,” Rocket remarked sadly. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

The cat withdrew from Rocket. He stepped back and wiped his tears away. “As I’ve said, it means what it means.”

“Okay…” Rocket said, “I’ll try to understand it that way. You’re someone I knew but never did… it’s so vague I can’t—” Rocket choked on his own breath. “It’s got to do with that infinity stone, isn’t it?”

The cat bit his lip and nodded up and down slowly.

Rocket laughed wryly. “So a bunch of things happened but never did?” Rocket thought. “Then that’s what you meant with us meeting but not at all?”

“Yes—”

“Then why didn’t you look for me?” Rocket said through gritted teeth. He was angry and confused but he projected his anger even more.

The cat in front of him was a stranger—Rocket didn’t know the cat’s name, who he is or what he’s like but at the same time Rocket felt like he did know the cat. That was the very source of his anger and confusion—he felt concerned with someone whose name he didn’t even know.

“I did…” the cat whispered, wiping his nose. “I searched for you and when I found you…something didn’t feel right. I know you through things that never happened… and I know that you wouldn’t recognize me. You have no idea how much I feared approaching you and you would give me the same look you’re giving me right now.”

Rocket sighed and looked down. “You’re right… I don’t know you but you had something I don’t,” Rocket lifted his head and locked his eyes with the cat. He continued, “I was haunted by dreams and sensations even until now. It’s like my body knows something my mind doesn’t—”

“Rocket—”

“And I could only ease it by trying to find some answers!” Rocket raised his voice. “Clockwork… it’s the closest my mind’s ever been comforted until you.”

The cat swallowed as Rocket ceased to silence. “Cheshire…” he said.

Rocket’s brows centered to his face in confusion.

“My name is… Cheshire,” the cat swallowed heavily. He closed in on Rocket, “A-and I love you so much it broke me when I made the decision to reset everything that happened so we could have our dead back…”

Cheshire thumped his forehead against Rocket’s chest and the raccoon didn’t mind. “I’m sorry that I left remnants that haunted you. I’m sorry I only said farewell on a piece of paper. This time, I could properly do it.”

Cheshire stepped back and opened his mouth to say goodbye but the raccoon didn’t let him.

“Don’t…” Rocket said. “I’ll never know what happened that never did and I may not know entirely who you are but…” Rocket pulled Cheshire inside his embrace. “You’re already familiar. A part of me wants you so… _stay_.”

One word never sounded like a million before. Cheshire was surprised to the point of regret. It made him regret the day he found Rocket and didn’t approach. The infinity gem wasn’t perfect after all. It may have erased everything that happened but it wasn’t able to erase it completely. It was there with Rocket—the people, the things, the scenarios—all inside his mind but were nameless.

And it needn’t names for it to matter.

Cheshire’s sob turned to a subtle chortle and then he was laughing against the raccoon’s chest, inside his arms. He floated in the air, carrying Rocket with him.

“Let’s do the _thing_ we never did,” Cheshire pecked Rocket on the lips.

The raccoon had no idea of what Cheshire was referring to but he lost composure when the cat kissed him on the lips. He stammered and blushed but couldn’t hide away his face.

“Oh look…” Cheshire laughed, “It’s the same expression you never used when we first kissed but never did.”

Rocket hushed him with a kiss in return. “Alright that’s enough. I’m getting confused. Let’s just do that _thing_ you said earlier. What was that thing?”

“You’ll find out,” Cheshire winked and they glided up the second floor of the inn—to the room Lourdes had been preparing since she left the counter.

The night was young and so were they.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My next project would be a Zootopia Fantasy AU. I'm world-building right now and am going use that world for future Fantasy projects.
> 
> I ship Rocket and Cheshire so hard I think they'll have a minor love story in Dawn's Dagger xD Ciao.


	35. Prologue

<http://sanjiyu.deviantart.com/art/One-Kiss-681062309>

Rocket just came from Knowhere with smuggled techs he ought to tinker with later on. After learning that such a place existed, a mechanic with a high caliber such as Rocket himself couldn’t just stand to sit by wondering what he could possibly acquire and make from those acquirements.

However of all bad things that could possibly happen to him was get lost. He was a product of a cybernetics experiment—built to tinker and mechanize. Tech was his forte—his very essence yet somehow he managed to ride off course where the others were. If Peter finds out or Gamora, that he, Rocket—a tech expert—was having a navigational dilemma, he would be a laughing stock for them.

He was in a rented ship—about ten-thousand units for one go. It was quite cheap but he did inspect it before paying up and riding to Knowhere. Everything was crappy but unbroken—that he was sure of. Now, however, there seemed to be no way he could fix the space map. He didn’t bring his tools with him so even if he could fix it, he wouldn’t be able to.

It took him a long time but enough was enough. Peter will understand.

Moving to the back of the ship, Rocket pulled out the emergency chest he was informed about earlier before renting the ship. He was told that if any problem occurred, communication devices would be available.

Dust covered the faded red crate. Its hinges were creaky with rust but he managed to open it nevertheless. He was surprised seeing a peculiar device that seemed to be a voice amplifier. There was also a box shaped device that had a lot of buttons in it—kind of like Quill’s old music player but a bigger version.

Where did this guy get all these junk? Rocket asked himself and at the same time, it struck him. The owner probably got it from Earth. He looked Terran after all.

It was a challenge, setting up the old alien device but no obstacle was too complicated for Rocket when it comes to technology. He managed to put the junk together to a fine, receiving and transmitting message device. He connected with Peter’s ship.

“Peter Quill, do you copy? This is Rocket.” He waited for an answer.

There came no reply.

Rocket pressed the red button again—a necessary requirement to send the message as he spoke on what seemed to be a mic.

“Do you copy, Star Lor—” he was taken aback at the sight just outside the glass.

There was a space rip and a live one too. If it was just an ordinary quantum leap, there wouldn’t be any problem at all but this one was different. A leap-hole just takes one out to any part of the universe but this wormhole could take one out of the universe and in to the multiverse.

Rocket dropped everything as of the moment as he frantically made his way to the pilot section of the ship. He steered away from the wormhole but it was attracting his ship. It was a live vortex. To his misfortune, all was swallowed in darkness.


End file.
